Unwelcome
by Gaia Faye
Summary: A bit of a reunion is interrupted when a woman from Vejita's past returns. She wants a favor, and nothing good happens when Vejita refuses to help. [Chapter 14 (Part 18) now up]
1. Prologue

~Prologue~

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z/GT or their characters.

Author's Notes: Whelp, I've finally started this thing (while thinking of a newer, less crappier title). Just so you know, this is NOT RELATED to Total Solar Eclipse if you read it, so don't worry about any continuity between this story and that one. Whelp, this is only the prologue introducing my new original character, but I have lots planned, so I hope you enjoy.

~Prologue~

She could only see a round portion of the cold emptiness of space through the pod's small window, but she hated it just the same. The onyx backdrop with its twinkling white lights was pretty, but only when she observed it from the solid ground of a planet. Once she may have enjoyed traveling through space, but now it brought back awful memories of long past. They were thoughts that bombarded her, suffocated her, denied her mind of rational thought if she was unable to keep calm.

She'd had a panic attack twice, in fact. The first time she'd had trouble breathing, her blood red nails tearing into the mahogany cushions of the little pods single seat. She'd broken into a cold sweat, perspiration sliding down her face and neck and soaking into her clothing. The second time had been much worse than the one prior. She had experienced the same symptoms as before, but soon also became delusional, convinced she was back in that awful place, trapped in that horrible prison and forced to work for the monster who took her away from her father as part of a hellish negotiation. Luckily she had passed out from the stress of the recurring memories before trying to blast anything. She could have destroyed the pod, casting herself out into the barren black nothingness. Her body would have been ripped apart from the inside out due to the unequal pressure. She was grateful for the unconsciousness.

As she concentrated on ignoring the space outside, her aqua eyes were drawn to her traveling companion: a small doll. Its shape resembled that of a gingerbread man, although that comparison would never cross her mind since she was unaware of such a thing. She only saw it for what it was: two standard body-shaped slices of a tan cloth that was akin to leather, loosely stitched together with a darker and tougher type of the same material. This lanyard, weaving in and out of the fabric's edge, held in the stuffing. More stitches formed x-shaped eyes and a single stitch made a mouth. Others had only been sewn for mending purposes when the thick cloth had been torn. 

"You're not scared, are you?" she asked the doll, as if expecting an answer.

The doll, of course, did not answer. It only sat on the metal armrest, unmoving. She stared at it anyway, tilting her head to one side as if listening attentively and patiently waiting.

After a few minutes she leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. "I suppose sleep would help," she sighed agreeably. "What if I dream, though? You know they haven't been pleasant recently." 

Once again she was silent, but one eye was now open, it's gaze focused on the small figure beside her. Once again she seemed to be listening to an unheard response.

"I guess it is better than having another episode... Will you try to wake me if you see I'm having a nightmare? I know you can't do much, but..."

More silence as she listened.

"Arigatou," she said quietly, closing her open eye. Then she relaxed, pretending she was back on Wycan, her home planet, gazing up at the stars instead being surrounded by them. She pretended she was a young woman again, in the years after her service to the white alien but before the era of chaos began.

Ah, yes. She could see it all perfectly now. She knelt in a vast field of ebony grass and flowers in bright varieties of orange, pink, blue, purple and green. She could feel the soft cushion of grass beneath her knees through the thin, ivory fabric of her short-sleeved dress. The sweet aroma of the flowers drifted around her, the scent relaxing her body. She tilted her head back, staring up at the carnation sky that was spotted with white puffs. The yellow sun was setting on the horizon far before her, streaks of red and orange striping the sky. A peaceful glow emanated from the setting sphere, and the luminescence seemed to surround her... 

The glow grew and grew, its brilliance soon taking on an unpredictable violent fervor. Her relaxation vanished as she saw the fire all around her; the coal grass and colorful flowers were consumed in orange brilliance. She stood, stumbling as her bare foot caught onto her skirt in her haste and tore off most of the hem, and she gaped at the orange flames. It felt as if the mere heat of the blaze was scorching her pale skin, and she held her hands in front of her face in useless defense. There was a huge, bright flare from behind her, and she whirled around and cried out in horror.

A city- it did not cross her mind how it could have just appeared behind her- was amassed in flames. The tall skyscrapers were nothing but towering torches and the smaller buildings were flimsy kindle. In the center of the inferno was the blazing palace, it's once intricate snowy shell now scorched black, and large, smoldering chunks breaking off, disappearing into the fires below.

She let out another cry and sped into the fiery city, what was once the capital of Wycan. She gave no thought to the fire; she only thought of her home, the palace consumed in the raging flames. She raced through a lane, which was curiously untouched by the licking, twisting blaze and led directly to the front gates of her home. The ornate metal bars had been ripped from their hinges and lay on the sandy bricks of the avenue, but she just clattered across them and raced on.

A little further and she was at the entrance to the palace itself. One of the massive double doors had been knocked down and now lay in the front hall. As with the gates, she did not cease her hurried pace to even glance at the slab of metal and continued across the strip of plush red carpet to the doors of the throne room. It took her longer than usual to reach the doors; the long, crimson carpet seemed to stretch on forever, as if she were running suspended in air, but she could feel the impact of her bare feet against the fabric. Finally it seemed more like she was actually moving, the doors moving closer to her. She threw herself at one of the two doors, heaving all her weight against it and pushing it open. The door was lighter than she had estimated, though, and she stumbled into the room. She fell, and her hands and knees hit the marble floor hard. She looked up from the spotted white floor to the scene before her and let out a devastated scream.

Her father lay sprawled on the stone, his body limp and unmoving. He faced her, and she could see that his body had been ripped apart, crimson blood staining what remained of ivory clothing and seeping out around him into a pool of red on the cream-colored floor. His eyes silently screamed and stared into his daughter's pupils. She knew he couldn't see her, but his empty gaze still bore into her blurry, terrified stare.

A superior, victorious laugh erupted, and her eyes were jerked from the king's thrashed body to the man reclining in the throne. Their gazes locked, and her terror was slowly being matched by the rage she felt in reaction to the being before her: a dark gray-skinned man with white, pupil-less eyes and a grinning mouth of light gray canines. His long black hair was tucked behind his sharply pointed ears and flowed down to his waist. His olive green uniform was decorated with yellow lines going down the sides of his pants, around the cuffs of his shirt and circling his neck at the collar, with matching gold epaulets on his squared shoulders. The esteemed wardrobe was marred by splotches and streaks of red from the ashen man's attack on the now lifeless body that lay on the cold floor. 

She stood up, eerily still as she concentrated her red vision on the chuckling traitor on the throne. "You will pay, Kouruji," she hissed, preparing to launch herself at the traitor and thrust her red nails into his chest.

His laughter never ceasing, Kouruji stood up from his seat and narrowed his cold gaze at her. "You forget the low odds of you winning, child," he replied.

The laughter suddenly increased in volume as he threw his arms outwards from his body and then raised them toward the room's curved ceiling. A ring of fire circled him and then expanded outward, the ferocious, licking flames reaching her in an instant. Every nerve in her body only knew the pain of burning fire. She tried to escape the excruciating heat, but at every turn the inferno was around her and consuming her flesh. She could feel her skin blistering as she twisted around in the fire that tore at her dress until she was left nude in the blaze that left scathing caresses on her bare flesh. There was no way out!

Gods, what was that sound? It was everywhere, ringing in her melting ears. Kouruji's laughter? No. No, it was much more high pitched and shrill, and the source followed her everywhere as she desperately raced around the room to escape the sea of flames. Suddenly she tripped and fell right into the flames. The sharp sound became more ear splitting, and she realized that it was the sound of her own panicked shrieking as she desperately scrambled to her feet.

The fire was all over her now; she had become a screaming, flailing torch. She felt nothing but agonizing pain and saw only the flickering of fire. The flames twitched now and then into her open mouth and she could taste her own burning flesh. She could no longer smell the stench of smoldering skin and muscle, and somehow she knew that her nose must have been charred away.

Oh, God, her eyes! One moment she had been encountering constant waves of yellow, orange, and red, but now there was a terrible scorching sting in her eyes and she could only see black. She could feel the scalding power of the flames more acutely now as her body was swiftly being eaten away like paper by the flaring force.

Then the pain began to lessen, slowly at first but then more rapidly, until she could feel absolutely nothing. She no longer had any sensation of touch, sight, taste, or smell. She knew her hearing still functioned, for the fading purr of the fire still registered in her mind.

But the darkness was more inviting than the soft hum, and she let herself sink into it...

There was a jump in her chest as she sat upright in the tiny pod. Her head swung back and forth frantically as she looked about for the flames. Rational thought registered suddenly, however, and she realized that it had only been a dream: past memories twisted into a gruesome nightmare.

Panting, she leaned back against the small seat and ignored the soppy cling of her sweat-soaked clothing as she forced herself to relax. She slowly breathed in the pure air supplied by the reserves of the pod until her heart resumed its steady pumping and her muscles became less tense. Her eyes caught a hatch on the left armrest and she opened it and pulled out a full bottle of greenish liquid. She drank until only half was left, then replaced it in the compartment. Her eyes glanced to another square on the opposite armrest by the small doll, and she lifted it open to reveal a control pad of some sort. She pressed a few keys- by now she knew the sequence by memory- and read the readings given on the small screen. 

She sighed. "Only two more days," she muttered. "Two days." She closed the panel, holding her palm flat against it for a moment. The same hand then moved toward the doll and took it in its fingers, letting it rest in her palm. "I know you tried," she muttered, "but I suppose you weren't loud enough. There isn't much you could have done." She placed the figure in her lap. One arm returned to her side, but the other remained softly holding the doll.

She stared blankly at the curved side of the pod as she ignored the intimidating emptiness of space that surrounded her- physically and mentally.

______________________________

Er... so you like? O_o Any constructive criticism would be appreciated for while I'm writing Chapter One.


	2. Chapter One: Change of Plans

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z/GT or their characters.

Author's Note: I finally did it! Yoo hoo! After my computer dying on me, I thought I'd never get it done, but it's fixed and I finished my editing. So... uh... read... o_o

Chapter One: Change of Plans

"Oh!" Paresu squealed when she answered the phone, her brown eyes shining in delight. "Goten-kun! I'm so happy you called! In fact, I was just thinking of calling you because I'm at the mall all by myself and I need someone to talk to."

"Uh... yeah." Goten responded, not sounding quite as ecstatic as his girlfriend. "Um, Paresu..."

"Oh, I just can't wait for our date tomorrow!" Paresu continued. "Can we see that new movie? The one about... oh... Oh, I can't believe I forgot already!" She giggled nervously, looking around the mall. "I know I just saw a poster for it..."

"Uh, Paresu, I have some bad news..."

"...Bad news?" Paresu said softly.

"Well, I guess it's not that bad. I suppose it's in the way you look at it."

"Oh, no..." Paresu murmured into the receiver as she sat down on a nearby bench.

"Oh... no...?"

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" Paresu couldn't believe it. They'd been dating for two years now, and they'd rarely had any problems with each other. She and Goten had stuck together through the good times and the bad times, and recently everything seemed like it was going just fine. She hadn't seen any signs that Goten was unhappy with her. In fact, she was so sure that they'd been getting closer to each other. How could this happen?

"Huh?" was Goten's reply.

"Oh, I just knew it!" Paresu cried, slamming a pale fist on the arm of the bench. "I knew it was too good to be true! I think I find the greatest, sweetest guy in the world, go out with him for two years, fall in love with him and turn to putty in his hands, and then he breaks it off!"

"Er... Paresu?"

"It just figures! You men! All alike!" She glanced with teary eyes at two young men who'd stopped in their tracks at her remark, staring at her curiously. "What are you two looking at?!" 

"But, Paresu, I-" 

"Don't patronize me, Goten!" Paresu interrupted. "You think you can just toss me away and I'll be okay with it? I can't believe that you, YOU, Goten, would be such a player!" Paresu let out a short sob, and she rifled around in her purse for a tissue. "And then you say it's not THAT bad if I LOOK at it the RIGHT way-"

"PARESU!"

"Oh, now you're yelling at me!"

"I don't wanna break up with you!"

"Oh, now you... oh..." Paresu put her hand behind her head and laughed nervously. "I knew that! I was just joking!" She hunched over, realizing how much attention she'd been getting from the other shoppers.

"Right..."

"So, what IS the news?"

"Well, we can't go out tomorrow."

"Oh..." Paresu looked at the scratched tile floor sadly, twirling a few strands of her chestnut hair around her index finger.

"But that's because my mom wants you to come with us when we have dinner with the Briefs family at Capsule Corporations."

"OH! Well, that sounds good.... CAPSULE CORPORATIONS??" Paresu screamed, jumping up from her seat. A few mall goers were so startled by the outburst that they dropped their bags and stared at her, blinking their eyes in intrigued confusion.

Goten jerked the phone away from his ear. "Jeez! I don't think they heard you in America!" he said when he pulled the receiver back to his ear. "What's the big deal about the CC anyway?"

"That's... that's all the way in Western Capital!"

"So... it's kind of far away..."

"Kind of?" Paresu paced back and forth in front of the bench, gesturing with her free hand as she spoke. "Goten, it takes you five hours to drive to Satan City from your house. To get to Western Capital from there will take more than ten times as long! We'll have to drive for more than two days straight-"

"Um... Okaasan says we're taking a plane."

Paresu stopped pacing. "Oh..."

"You knew that too?"

"Oh, shush!" Paresu frowned into the phone, but then her expression lightened into confusion. "You mean we're taking a plane all the way across the continent to have dinner?"

"Um, actually, we'll get there by dinner time, and Bulma-san wants us to stay for a couple more days..."

"Thanks for telling me straight off," Paresu said sarcastically. "So... you really want me to come with you guys?"

"Of course, Paresu-chan. 'Kaasan really wants you to come, and Bulma said it was okay."

"Well, I guess I'll come then!" Paresu chirped, doing a little hop. 

"Great!" Goten exclaimed. "The plane leaves Satan City Airport at two tomorrow. Will you meet us there?"

"Sure!" Paresu replied. "Oh, Goten-kun, do you think the Briefses will like me?"

"Well, Trunks said he likes you, and you have met them all once before..."

"Yeah, but I haven't really talked to Trunks that much, and I didn't say anything at all to the rest of the family at the funeral! I mean, it's the Briefs family! Owners of the Capsule Corporation! They're such high class..."

"What does that make me?"

"Gomen!" Paresu apologized. "I didn't mean that!"

"Nah, it's okay. Besides, you're a model, doesn't that make you high class too?"

"I guess..." Paresu picked up her purse, slinging it over her shoulder, and continued her shopping, "but they're smart too, and not just smart! Genius smart..."

"Oh, don't feel intimidated. Trust me. They're great people."

"Oh, I know... I guess I'm just nervous..." Paresu studied an elegant black dress in one of the display windows. "They aren't going to the opera or anything while we're there, are they?"

"Opera?" Goten laughed. "Are you kidding me?"

"Um... yes?" Paresu said, quickly moving on to the next store.

Goten chuckled, but after a moment stopped. "Um... about Vejita..."

"That's Trunks' papa, right? What about him?" Paresu studied a pair of leather sandals through the window of a shoe store, then went inside.

"Um... just don't let him scare you..."

"Scare me? Why would he scare me?" Paresu asked, pointing out the shoes she wanted to a clerk and flashing him her shoe size using her fingers.

"Well, it's not like he tries... or maybe he does... Look, he's just not the sunniest person..."

"Well, okay," Paresu replied, not quite understanding what Goten meant. "I'm sure I can deal with him."

"I think you and Bra will get along fine though," Goten assured her. "I think you guys are alike in some ways. She definitely loves shopping."

"Oh, yes, Bra! How old is she now?"

"She's sixteen."

"Sixteen... Oh, I wish I could be sixteen again..." Paresu sighed in a brief moment of reverie. "Hey, maybe Bra and I can go shopping together, huh?"

"That's a good idea. I think she'll really like you."

"Are your brother and his family going?" Paresu asked. The clerk returned with her shoes, and she nodded towards the cash register.

"Nah, they're on vacation in America. They won't be back home for a couple of weeks... So it's just us, Mom, and the Briefs."

"Okies..." Paresu handed the clerk her credit card and caught a glimpse of her watch as she did so. "Oh, Goten-kun! I have to go so I can pack!"

"'Kay. I'll see you at the airport tomorrow, then?"

"Uh huh!

"Ja ne, Paresu-chan!"

"Ja, Goten-kun!" Paresu hit the "end" button on her cell phone and slid it into her purse. She took back her credit card with one hand and grasped the plastic bag that held her new shoes in the other. "Arigatou!" she chirped, putting her card in her purse and turning from the counter.

Paresu smiled as she left the store. If she couldn't spend time alone with Goten, she would settle for being with him when others were around. Besides, it was good for their relationship if she got to know his friends better. She might even learn a little more about Goten. Maybe she would learn a bit more about what had happened that day...

On their first date Paresu and Goten had gone out for ice cream. It was also the first time she'd ever tried it, and although she'd been unsure how to eat it at first, she enjoyed it very much. She'd been having fun the whole time actually, until that guy showed up...

Amazed and bewildered, she had watched as Goten fought the strange man. It wasn't just normal hand to hand combat, though. She'd seen bright, colorful energy balls shoot from Goten's hands as he fought. She'd seen him use massive strength, more than she seen Mr. Satan exhibit. Then Trunks had shown up and done the same thing. Paresu had been shocked and confused by all that was going on around her, and she hadn't known what to think of the extraordinary display.

Later, she'd asked Goten what exactly it was she'd seen. Goten had stared at her for moment, as if contemplating, and than a grin spread over his lips and he had told her to forget about it. He'd said it wasn't important.

So, she never brought it up again. Other girls might have been frightened of a guy who obviously had a secret, but Paresu just didn't care. Granted, she was not a sharp girl, but Paresu knew that she liked Goten a lot. Secret or no secret, if he thought it was best for her not to know about whatever it was he was hiding, then she would trust him.

Paresu walked towards the rotating doors that led to the parking lot and thought about the various things she would have to pack for the trip. There was the obvious: shirts, jeans, socks, underwear, and sneakers. She should probably pack a few sundresses and heels too. Then of course hairspray, a curling iron, her make-up, a razor, her hairbrush... She hoped she wouldn't forget anything. Last year when she and Goten went to the shore for the weekend she forgot to pack a bathing suit! Her swimsuit, of all things! She had felt like a total fool even though Goten had said he found her cute when she was absentminded.

"Oh, well," Paresu sighed to herself as she pushed through the revolving doors and outside. "If I do forget anything I suppose I could just buy something in the capital." Shopping reminded her of Goten's comment about Bra, and Bra reminded her of the Briefs family. She bit her lip worriedly. "Oh, I hope they like me..."

"He's bringing WHO?" Bra shouted, letting her fork drop on her plate.

Her brother, Trunks, who sat beside her, and her father, Vejita, who sat across from her next to her mother, did not seem as shocked by the information Bulma had slipped into the conversation. They simply continued to greedily shovel their meal into their eager mouths. Bulma, however, sat with her fork poised above her plate and staring at her daughter curiously.

"He's bringing his girlfriend, Paresu, with him," Bulma repeated. "Is something wrong, Bra?"

Bra looked down at her plate and tried to hide her affection for the boyfriend of the girl in question. "It's just that... that you didn't mention it before."

"Well, Chi-Chi only called me about it today."

Bra glanced up from her food, as she sensed an opportunity to show any sort of superiority over this girl. "Well, that certainly is rude of Paresu asking to tag along, and on such short notice, in fact!"

"Actually," Bulma said, pausing to take a sip of her water, "Chi-Chi is the one who asked Paresu to come along. She says that she and Goten have gotten real close over these last two years, and she thinks that this is a good opportunity to see how she would get along with the Son family and their friends."

Trunks paused in his rapid consumption of food and raised an eyebrow. "She needs to see if Paresu can get along with others well? I've only seen her a few times, but she's a perfectly nice girl."

"Nobody is perfect," Bra quickly tossed in.

Bulma looked at her daughter closely. "Honey... are you jealous of Paresu?"

Bra felt the blush creep up her neck and blossom on her cheeks. "Jealous? Of course not! Why would I be jealous of her?"

"Yes, why would you?" a deep voice spoke up.

Bra's gaze slowly moved to her father, who was staring at her critically. _Oh, no... He can't know about Goten! He'll literally kill him!_ Bra took a deep breath, forced away the redness from her cheeks, and picked up her fork calmly. "Honestly, 'Tousan," she began, "are you insinuating that I like Goten in more of a friend-like way?"

"Sounded like _you_ were the one who insinuated it with all this envious blabber," Vejita replied, still glaring at her accusingly.

"I only like him as friend, 'Tousan! Honest! It's just that Goten is one of my very good friends, and if he and this Paresu girl are getting as close as Chi-Chi-san says I want to make sure she deserves him."

Vejita continued to stare at her for a moment, then begrudgingly accepted her answer and went on with eating his rice.

"It's nice of you to look out for Goten, Bra, but you have nothing to worry about," Trunks said. "She's a very nice girl. Plus, she already seems to have Chi-Chi-san's approval, so there can't be much to worry about."

"She's a model, Bra," Bulma said to her daughter. "Didn't you say you were considering getting into that after you graduate?"

Bra picked at her chicken. "I was thinking about it, but I don't really think that's what I want to do."

Bulma sighed and gave Bra stern look. "I really don't want to put pressure on you, honey, but you're seventeen and you still have no idea about what you want to do with your life. You don't expect to just live off the family wealth, do you?"

"Of course not!" Bra replied, a bit angry. "I'm not some moocher!"

"Then you're going to have to decide what profession you'll be going into."

"'Kaasan, there's still this year and the next to think about that!"

"Not if you want to get into a college! You have to send in your applications to the ones you're thinking about entering early, not that you've thought about college at all. They're going to want to know what you plan to major in and your grade point average. Speaking of which, your grades have been slipping recently. I've told you that I'm willing to help you if you're having trouble in any of your classes. You're going to have to keep those grades up if you want-"

"Do you even know what I want?" Bra shouted jumped up from her chair and tossed her fork onto the table. "Do you even have any idea? Have you even asked? You would think that an okaasan would ask her own daughter what she wants, but no! You just have all these expectations of what I should be doing and you don't even care! I'm not you, Okaasan! I'm not a genius, and I don't care about going to college! I don't _want_ to go to college! Is that okay with you?"

Trunks, mouth open (and thankfully not full of chewed-up fish) stared at his sister, shocked at her outburst. He had never seen her so angry or outspoken before, and it was quite a new experience for him, not to mention the rest of the family. Even Vejita was looking at his daughter with wide, surprised eyes. Bulma also looked just as shocked as her husband and son, but after a moment of silence in the dining room her expression and attitude became more serious.

"I think you need to spend some time in your bedroom," Bulma said to Bra with a calm expression.

Bra bit her lip and began feeling regret over her fit. "Okaasan, I just-"

"Your room. Perhaps when you've calmed down we can speak calmly and rationally like adults."

Bra sighed. "Gomenasai, Okaasan," she whispered before turning and leaving the dining room.

Bulma rubbed her temples. "I just don't know what's gotten into that girl."

"She probably feels a lot of pressure," Trunks spoke up. "I mean, you do have a lot of expectations for that she probably doesn't think she can-"

"Oh, please, Trunks!" Bulma exclaimed with a wave of her hand. "She knows she can be successful like the rest of the family. Well," Bulma took a glance at Vejita," like the two of us anyway. I mean, you were nervous about making it into the world, and look at you now!"

"But Bra is not me, 'Kaasan," Trunks pointed out. "I think the last thing she wants is to be anything like me."

"I'm sure it's just a phase," Bulma said. "She'll be back to her normal bubbly self in no time. Just watch."

Trunks gave up and picked up his fork, going over her words in his head. _Guess that's where Bra got her obliviousness when she was younger..._ His eyes fell on the empty seat next to his mother and he blinked. "Um... where'd 'Tousan go?"

"Huh?" Bulma saw that her husband had vanished. "What the hell...?"

Bra flopped into the swing lazily letting her feet trace faint lines into the soft dirt below. The swing set sat in the middle of a small playground was a ways from the house across the Capsule Corporation compound. Back when she was little, Bra used to scream until her father took her and pushed her on this swing, but she soon outgrew that part of her routine when she began attending school. Nowadays, though, she often came here to be alone with her thoughts so she could think without disruption.

She closed her eyes and hung her head, listening to the crickets chirping in the twilight as she slightly swung back and forth. She though about a lot of things when she was here: school, her family, her future... Goten...

A couple years ago she had been sure that Goten was hers, despite the age difference. So what if he was more than twice her age? She just knew that they were perfect for each other! He was so cute, so sweet! Sure, he wasn't bright like his brother, but his personality was better in Bra's opinion. Back then, she just knew that one day they'd be together.

Not that she'd ever gotten the courage to confess her affection. At first she'd been very shy around him. She barely said a word and answered his questions with nods and shakes of her head while trying to hide her blushes. As time went on and she matured, she'd become more confident and outgoing. She'd been able to have actual conversations with Goten and sometimes tagged along when he, her brother, and Marron went on their excursions. Talking more and spending more time with Goten increased her infatuation with him, even though Trunks was usually around whenever she saw Goten.

Trunks must've been blind not to notice the look in his sister's eyes whenever she spotted his best friend. Of course, these days he had his own relationship to focus on, so there was less chance of him discovering now. Bra smiled to herself. Who would've thought that Trunks and Marron would have wound up together? They fit well, anyway. Marron was a strong-willed, sweet girl who balanced out Trunks' tendency to become stressed with his job. Marron used to stay at home with her parents and barely went out as she fended off the eager hands of Muten Roshi, but when she and Trunks began dating she got out more. Trunks took her out on the town now and then and Marron was always his date at the Capsule Corporation business gatherings. They hadn't been able to go out much at first, what with the distance that separated them, but when Marron left Roshi's island to make it on her own she had moved to an apartment in West Capital that was right across town from the compound! Now Trunks and Marron saw each other nearly every day when Trunks wasn't busy with his role as the president of Capsule Corporations and Marron wasn't working as the hostess of a popular restaurant. Bra had been worried that Goten would feel left out, but, of course, he was also in his own relationship.

Bra frowned. Things had sure changed in the last two years, the years after Goku had died, or so they assumed after he had flown off on Shenron's back. A couple weeks after he had disappeared there had been a funeral at the Son house. Well, it had been more like a wake-like ceremonial gathering actually. That was the only way Bra could describe it. She and her family had come, as did Gohan, Videl, and Pan from their home in Satan City; Gyuu Mao, Chi-Chi's father; Krillin, Juuhachigou, and Marron; Yamcha and Puar; Tenshinhan and Chaozu; Piccolo; and Muten Roshi and Oolong. They had all sat together outside the Son house and related tales of their past adventures with Goku. Bulma, laughing as she spoke, even told of how Goku had discovered how different boys and girls really were, and, of course, Vejita hadn't found it as amusing. When the subject of his and Nappa's arrival on Earth came up, however, Bulma was able to use her expert nagging to goad him to tell nearly every detail his and "Kakarot's" first battle. When he came to the point in his narration where the fight stopped going his way, however, he let out a little huff and refused to go on, and Krillin picked up where he left off.

There had been someone missing from the circle of friends, though. Goten had been more broken up over his father's death than anyone else, even his mother. Goten had not known his father for half his childhood or the many years Goku had been away training Uubu, the reincarnation of Majin Buu, and Goten had become depressed when he realized that he would never get a chance to get to know his father better. As the others had recited their stories Goten had sat on the other side of the house and silently stared at the sky, as if he were wishing for his father to glide down from the clouds on white-feathered wings. Bra had wanted to go sit with him but her mother had stopped her and assured her that Goten would be fine.

_"After all, Paresu is with him."_

They had only been on one date, but when Paresu had heard of Goku's passing she'd insisted on sticking with Goten as he mourned. Throughout the months after Goku's death, wherever Goten was so was Paresu, although it wasn't as if Goten had gone anywhere. He had taken to a habit of staying inside and moping about the house, and he barely said a word to anyone. Paresu came over each day, trying to coax Goten out of his melancholy. Soon Chi-Chi insisted that since Paresu was over so much that she should just spend the night, and Paresu did so, often for weeks at a time. After a couple of months Paresu's effort began to show progress; she was able to encourage Goten to get out of the house and took him to the mall, the movie theatre, and restaurants. Bit by bit Goten became more his usual, more optimistic self, and after he had fully recovered he and Paresu were closer than ever.

Bra had already known that her chances with him would be obliterated during the beginning of Goten's depression, however. On the day of the wake, she had been able to sneak away from the chattering group for a few minutes, thinking hopefully that perhaps Paresu would be inside using the bathroom or getting a drink of water. She had no luck, however, for when she peeked around the corner she saw Goten and Paresu sitting together on the grass on the front lawn. Goten's face was buried in Paresu's shoulder and his arms were around her waist. Paresu's arms were braced tightly around his back as the brunette, humming to him softly, held Goten close and rested her cheek in his spiky black hair.

God, when Bra had glimpsed the loving scene the couple presented and realized that she had lost Goten forever, she felt her heart break in two. Oh, she knew it was wrong to feel that way, to be so selfish during such a time, but she couldn't help it. And as she stared at Paresu, as she glared with envy upon the pretty, dark-haired girl whose eyes looked upon Goten with such love and devotion, Bra couldn't help but feel such hate within herself.

Sometimes it swelled up so strongly that Bra was afraid that some day she might act on it.

Bra started when she felt her lazy swing suddenly jolt when two strong, callused hands gripped the chains on either side of her. She whirled around and let out an "oh" when she recognized the intruder.

"You scared me, 'Tousan," Bra said softly as she turned back to look up at the tiny lanterns in the sky. It was darker than when she had arrived. The sky was now painted in a thick coat of near-black navy blue and flickering rhinestones were scattered across the canvas.

Vejita did not reply, and when his daughter turned back to look at him she recalled how he had changed in the past years too. He had let his hair grow back and it was once again a flaming ebony torch, but as for facial hair, he hadn't attempted growing a mustache again. As she had been noticing for a while, he wasn't as muscular as he had been two years ago. His training habits had lessened, although only slightly ever since Goku's death. Vejita hadn't given up on fighting- such would be impossible for him- but ever since everyone realized that Goku was definitely gone for good this time, that Goku would not return in five, ten, fifteen years, Vejita did not have the same fire about him when he trained. True, he still thoroughly enjoyed sparring with Trunks, but Trunks was no where near the level Vejita was. The younger man simply did not have time to train and increase his strength; he rarely had time to fight with his father at all since his job was so demanding. There was simply no one Vejita could have a decent workout with.

Sometimes Bra wished she could have been more of a fighter than a shopper. Who knows? She could have become the first female Super Saiyajin if she had trained long and hard enough. Even Pan hadn't done that yet, but that was only because no one had time to train the girl. Bra wondered how things would have worked out had Pan been born a Briefs and she a Son. Vejita could have trained Pan and Pan most definitely would have reached the Super Saiyajin in no time. Vejita could have a daughter, a fighter, to be proud of. Then Gohan and Videl would have a daughter without fighting abilities or interest to go to waste and everyone would be happy.

"So you sneaked out, eh?" Vejita asked, and Bra blinked, realizing that she'd been staring at him.

"Hai," was her reply.

Vejita didn't continue and tilted his neck to look up at the stars.

"Papa..."

Vejita looked back down at her, one dark eyebrow slightly quirked up. Bra rarely called him "papa" anymore, only when she felt the need to be comforted.

"Do you... Do you hate it that I'm not a fighter?" There. She'd asked the question she'd wanted to ask for nearly a year now.

"Why?"

Bra glared at her father. She hated it when he avoided answering a question by asking another. "'Tousan! Just tell me!" She stared at him for nearly a minute, him looking right back, and she gave in with a sigh. "I just feel like a big disappointment. I'm not a smart as 'Kaasan wants me to be, and I just know that you were wishing for a daughter like Pan."

"How could I compare you to Kakarot's bloodline?"

"You know what I mean."

Vejita was silent for a moment, then spoke. "I was disappointed when I figured out that you would have no interest in fighting."

Bra stared at him, waiting for him to go on, but he didn't. Her mouth worked for a few moments as she tried to figure out what she could possibly say in return. Finally, she worked up a voice. "Is that all you have to say?" she exclaimed.

"You asked me a question, and I answered."

"So you aren't proud of me at all?" Bra's voice shook a bit as she fought back tears.

"I didn't say that."

"So what are you saying?!"

"You're not a fighter, but you will definitely succeed."

"Oh... but in what?"

"Last time I checked, you weren't so sure either."

Bra stared at him, then finally rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "'Tousan, why do you have to make everything you say so confusing?"

"You only say it's confusing because it makes you think too much," Vejita retorted with a smirk. He let out a sudden yelp when his daughter reached back and grabbed the front of his shirt with her delicate hands. With a grunt she threw him up and over the swing set and he landed with a thud, flat on his back. He blinked once, looking at an upside-down smirking Bra.

"Punk," she said, sticking out her tongue.


	3. Chapter Two: Reunion

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or GT, nor do I own their characters. (As if it weren't obvious.)

Author's Note: Hi! ^_^; ::waves meekly:: Okay, so I've been on a long hiatus (Word of the moment! O_O Scream REALLY loud if you spot it…), but here it is (finally): Chapter Two! ::plays a trumpet triumphantly, but suddenly wails off-key:: o_o;; There's some comedy- at least I hope you'll find it somewhat amusing- and some cute Paresu/Goten moments, so enjoy! Chapter three is in the works, and hopefully I'll get it out faster than I did this one. Oh, my Lord, I just realized it's been NINE months since I posted chapter one. O_O;;;;;;;

(P.S. I re-uploaded this chapter because of all the little errors… God, I HATE errors…. ::shudders:: And there are probably still more in there… O_O ::screams:: Hopefully there are spaces between the scene changes now. ~_~;)

Chapter Two: Reunion

Blue eyes peered from behind disheveled lavender hair at the screen. The flight from Satan City to West Capital was right on time, so he expected their guests to walk in through the gate within the next five minutes. He loosened his tie; he'd driven straight from the office to meet his family and girlfriend at the airport so they could be there to pick up their guests. He had wanted to change out of the aggravating tan suit and cramped shoes, but there had been no time.

"They're on time," Trunks said as he unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and turned to the others.

Marron's blue eyes shined as she clasped her hands together. "I can't wait to see them again! It's been so long!" She'd picked out a nice outfit to wear for the occasion: a long-sleeved, light pink blouse tucked into a black skirt that came down to mid-thigh, with flesh-colored hosiery and ebony boots that came up to the middles of her calves. She'd put her long blonde hair into low pigtails on either side of her head and worn her favorite rose-tinted hat. 

"It's only been five months since we've seen the Sons," Bra pointed out, obviously less enthusiastic about the visitors. She was dressed more casually. Her aqua hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore a white tank top and denim jeans that flared at the knee. Her white sneakers matched her shirt, as well as her ivory gothic gloves, which covered her arm nearly up to the shoulder and stretched across the back of her hand to loop around her middle finger. The gloves were Bra's own personal trademarks; she had them in just about every known shade of every color conceivable.

"Oh, please. Don't tell me that you're not happy to see them."

"It is nice to see them again, but I think you're just being a bit too excited about it." Of course, what Bra wanted to scream was, "Of course I'm not happy to see MY Goten with some dim-witted model!" She kept that thought hidden in her mind.

Marron winked and laughed. "Oh, I see. You're just trying to be all 'cool' and collected like your otousan, right?"

"Oh, Lord, no," Bulma said jokingly. "The last thing I need is another Saiyajin Prince to worry about." Her blue hair was pulled back into a tight bun, which had two brown hair chopsticks shoved through it. A silk evergreen blouse, with the top two buttons undone, covered her torso, a beige skirt fell almost to her knees, and her feet were clad in tan heels.

Vejita only rolled his eyes at the remark and maintained his usual silence. He wore a simple outfit of a long-sleeved navy blue shirt, brown slacks, and black shoes. As usual he stood with his arms crossed and scowled at everything around him with aware, critical sable eyes.

"Hey, Bra!" Marron said enthusiastically. "You, me, and Paresu should go shopping together."

"Yeah, sure!" Bra replied, trying to sound as thrilled as the blonde. After all, shopping was her favorite thing to do.

Marron frowned. "Are you okay? I thought you loved shopping."

"I do, but I… I'm just tired," Bra lied, faking a yawn.

Marron didn't believe the tired facade for a moment, but decided to leave Bra be.

"Attention," a calm, soft voice announced over the loudspeakers throughout the plane terminal. "Flight three-ninety-seven, Satan City to West Capital, had just arrived. Passengers will be entering the terminal shortly."

A few moments later the nearby double doors were opened and travelers dispersed to meet their families and friends. Soon the group saw Chi-Chi emerge from the line of people. The raven-haired mother of two hitched her carry-on bag more securely on her shoulder as her dark eyes scanned the people around her. After a moment her gaze flashed over her shoulder and she smiled at the couple who had come up beside her.

Bra's stomach turned when she saw the smiling Goten and Paresu. Goten looked absolutely fantastic (as usual) a snug maroon t-shirt tucked into loose-fitting denim jeans. To Bra's disappointment, however, his girlfriend looked as stunning as ever (which was also as usual, Paresu being a model and all) in a spaghetti-strapped white sundress and wooden-heeled sandals. The young man's arm rested on the brunette's shoulder, and her arm was around his waist. 

Everyone smiled at the three guests as they approached except for Marron, who stared at Bra quizzically. Bra's smile was bright and welcoming, but the blonde didn't miss how the teenager's hands were balled into tight fists at her side. Marron followed Bra's gaze to Goten and Paresu, then looked back at the blue-haired girl.

The revelation made Marron feel extremely oblivious and dumb. How could she not see it before? She had thought that all the smiles and giggles directed at Goten in the previous years were just part of Bra's personality, but now the hints of flirtation accompanying the girlish gestures were blatant. How had they been so unnoticeable until now, when the jealous girl's fists were shaking to get one shot at the professional model?

Marron flushed slightly. Well, she knew why she hadn't noticed. She'd spent many years focusing how to get a certain lavender-haired half-Saiyajin's attention. Marron had been too preoccupied in her own goals to notice Bra's ambitions.

Marron's thoughts were interrupted when Trunks approached Goten and embraced him. "Hey, man!" he exclaimed. Goten was his best friend, and five months was way too long a hiatus. "How you doing?"

Goten's eyes flickered to the grinning woman beside him. "Great as always."

Trunks smiled back and turned to Paresu, who cried out when he gave her a hug that lifted her off the ground. "It's easy to see why," he chuckled, putting her down again. "How 'bout you, Paresu?"

Paresu giggled. "I'm great too, and it's also easy to see why." She latched onto Goten's arm.

Marron elbowed Bra, who was miming gag noises at the affectionate moment, before greeting the couple herself. "Welcome to Western Capital!" she said. "It's been too long since we've see each other!" She raised her arms in a hugging gesture and received embraces from both Goten and Paresu. "We missed you too, Chi-Chi-san!" she added, giving Goten's mother a bright smile.

"And we're all glad to see you too," Chi-Chi replied.

"You bet!" Bulma chimed in. "It's been so boring without any of the gang around. We love having you as company."

"Do we now?" grumbled the prince who stood beside her.

After a sharp, ineffective jab to Vejita's abdomen, Bulma laughed contritely. "Let's go find your bags, alright?"

Chi-Chi and Bulma walked at the head of the group, sharing stories about what they'd been doing since they'd last seen each other. Vejita followed close behind and was quiet as always while listening to their conversation. Next came the three girls: Bra, Marron, and Paresu. The blonde had decided it was best for the girls to know one another better, and asked Paresu to tell them about life as a model. (She remembered Bra having a small interest in the career, but had no idea that the young woman had given up on the idea.)

Trailing behind the others were Goten and Trunks, who were having their own conversation.

"She's really great, Goten." Trunks laughed. "As if I need to tell you that."

Goten smiled back, but the grin was oddly forced. "Yeah… she's fantastic…"

Trunks blinked. "What's wrong? Things are going well, right? I mean, after two years-"

"Oh, yes!" Goten interrupted. "Everything is fine… right now anyway…"

"But…?" Trunks prodded.

"But…" Goten hesitated, then said quietly. "I… I bought a ring, Trunks."

Trunks stumbled a bit, but caught himself before he went sprawling. "A ring?" he whispered. "Whoa, you really are that serious!"

"It has been two years, like you said."

Trunks shrugged. "I just never really thought about you settling down before." He scratched his head. "It's difficult to picture." The purpled-haired man frowned. "You know, even though Paresu is successful, you can't expect her to support you two. How did you even earn enough for a ring?"

"I've been working as a bartender for the last few months. The tips were unbelievable." Goten bit his lip. "Although it's not really what I want to do with the rest of my life, I'm going to stick with it until I figure out what I do want."

Trunks raised an eyebrow. "So you're nervous about asking her?"

Goten gave Trunks a look. "I still haven't told her about… you know… the whole… Saiyajin… thing…"

Trunks snickered. "The whole Saiyajin thing? Is that what we're calling it now?"

Goten did not laugh. "Do you think she'll… be okay with it?"

"I don't know, Goten," Trunks replied honestly. "It is a lot to handle." His face became solemn and he put an arm around his best friend's shoulders. "You do realize," he cautioned, "that if she acts… irrationally after acquiring this delicate information… that we'll have to kill her."

Goten's jaw went slack and he stopped immediately in his steps. "WHAT?" he exclaimed.

The six ahead of them turned around and looked at them curiously. Trunks laughed nervously and motioned for them to keep walking. Then he punched Goten in the shoulder. "I was just kidding, idiot."

"That wasn't funny," Goten muttered. "So what about you and Marron?"

Trunks blinked. "Heh, you know, it's funny. I hadn't really thought about it. We've never talked about getting married."

"Why not?"

The lavendar-haired man's brow furrowed. "I don't know…" It was a little disturbing. He and the blonde had been dating for nearly as long as Goten and Paresu, so by now shouldn't marriage be an obvious step to take? Marron wasn't the type to let things go, so if she wanted to become Marron Briefs she would have brought it up. Unless she wasn't as happy as he thought…

Trunks felt Goten's hand on his shoulder and heard the dark-haired young man say comfortingly, "Don't worry, Trunks. She probably just hadn't thought of it, like you."

"There's the belt for your flight!" 

The two boys looked up and saw Marron pointing to one of the rotating belts surrounded with clusters of people.

"Well, Vejita," Bulma said sternly, "why don't you get our guests' bags?"

Vejita eyes widened in surprise. "What?" He glared at her. "I am not your servant!"

"It's not slavery, Vejita. It's hospitality!" Bulma snapped.

"Yeah, 'Tousan," Bra added mockingly. "Be a little hospitable for once."

"Fine," Vejita said, walking towards the belt and grabbing his daughter's arm. "If you're so supportive of hospitality you can be a good example."

Bra grumbled to herself as she was led by her father. Chi-Chi followed to identify the right luggage.

Paresu suddenly embraced Goten enthusiastically. "Goten-kun!" she squealed. "I just remembered! We first met in an airport!"

Goten laughed and put his arms around her. He remembered that day well. He had been leaving the airport after a failed job interview when he'd seen Paresu get knocked over and dropped her bags. After she'd gotten situated again and walked off to the cab stand, Goten realized she'd accidentally left her purse behind. He picked it up before a more dishonest person could and chased after her. He caught up after she'd flagged down a cab, and in return she gave him a ride home. In the cab they'd gotten better acquainted and exchanged phone numbers, and they'd been dating ever since he'd called her back the next day. (Confused? Although it's not essential, you can read a longer version of this. It's called Woe, and if you're interested, you can find it in my profile.)

Paresu nuzzled his neck. "That was the greatest day of my whole life," she sighed.

Goten smiled. _Mine too… which is why I hope you accept the truth about my ancestry…_

"'T-tousan!" Bra exclaimed, and everyone turned to see that the girl was in fact holding _all_ the bags.

Vejita impassively walked beside her with his empty arms folded across his chest. "You said you were an advocate of hospitality," he jeered.

An hour later the group was at the Capsule Corporations compound in the Briefs' dome-shaped mansion. Bulma led everyone down a curving hallway to the guest rooms. She stopped at what was to be Chi-Chi's room.

"After you and Goten and Paresu unpack," Bulma said as she opened the door, "we'll go out to eat. You can pick the restaurant."

"Thank you," Chi-Chi replied as she walked into her room. The ceiling and walls were painted a pale maroon. A bed, covered with a white bedspread, sat against the right wall and a wood bureau stood opposite it. The ivory door to the private bathroom stood open, and beside it was the closed closet. There was also an oak desk and chair beside the dresser. Amongst the everyday decorations were various pictures and a clock on the walls and a small flower arrangement on top of the bureau.

"What a pretty room," Chi-Chi complimented, looking around. "You have lovely taste, Bulma."

Bulma was about to cut in with a modest thank you, but Vejita interrupted, saying, "She hired a decorator."

The younger four broke into snickers and giggles, and Bulma elbowed Vejita in the gut (once again with no effect). "I'm going to duct tape your mouth shut one day, Princey," she hissed.

"Let's leave Chi-Chi to unpack, Okaasan," Trunks suggested as he placed Chi-Chi's luggage at the foot of the bed. "We need to take Paresu and Goten down to their room."

Bulma nodded and waved for the couple to follow her. "Come on. Your room is a few more doors down."

"Why don't they take the room next door?" Chi-Chi asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No reason," Bulma replied slyly, giving Goten a wink before setting off down the hall. The man's face immediately flamed to a bright red, and a mortified Paresu covered her face with a hand. Chi-Chi only caught a glimpse of their reactions before the two quickly turned to follow Bulma, flanked by Trunks, Marron, and Vejita.

The raven-haired mother's eyes narrowed when she caught on to Bulma's meaning, but she repressed her motherly urges and closed the door. After Goku died she'd done her best to let her sons live their lives; she'd realized that she couldn't hold on to her little boys forever, just like she couldn't stop Goku from living the more dangerous parts of life without her.

But the revelation didn't make her loneliness any weaker.

Chi-Chi lifted one of the hefty bags onto the bed and undid the zipper. She tried to hard to not think about her husband, but even now as she transferred her clothing from her bag to the dresser she couldn't avoid it. 

She was never really sure why this death was so different than the one before. When Goku had perished during the Cell games no one had thought he would ever return, but her grief had not been as severe as what her heart had gone through two years ago.

She smoothed a hand over the shirts in the drawer. Maybe this emptiness was a sign that this time Goku was never returning, that she would have to wait for her own demise to see him again, or maybe that she would never see him again. Goku had told her that in Heaven he was allowed to keep his body because of his service to the innocent. She hadn't committed anywhere near as much of her time to defeating evil as her husband had; many times she had even discouraged him against doing so. Chi-Chi doubted she would be given the same privileges as Goku. The only chance she had was if Goku asked that she also be able to keep her body, but, although it pained her to think of such things, she wasn't sure he would.

Goku had forgotten her many times when he was alive. He would run off to train or go camping with his friends or other such things without her consent, or mostly without even telling her. Even though she knew he appreciated and loved her, the times he admitted it were rare. She didn't handle the child-like man's ignorance well. She vented her frustrations mostly by scolding him as if he were one of her own sons, since trying to talk like adults had no effect. Of course, screaming at him gave no results either.

Chi-Chi sighed. Shouldn't his absences have prepared her for this? He'd hadn't been home very often in life, his complete lack of presence in death shouldn't have been too much to bare…

But it was, and Chi-Chi didn't know if she would ever stitch her heart back together.

Paresu and Goten were unpacking their own things in their guest room, which was a blue version of Chi-Chi's room. 

"I think this trip will be lots of fun," Paresu commented enthusiastically as she placed her and Goten's shoes in a straight line at the bottom of the closet.

Goten nodded in agreement. "It's always fun when we come to visit."

"Bulma-san and Vejita-san make a cute couple," the model giggled. "How on earth did they meet?"

Goten turned back toward their bags so she couldn't see the panicked expression on his face. "Uh… I don't really know… I think my otousan introduced them."

"Your papa and Vejita met at a tournament?"

"I'm not sure."

"Huh…" Paresu was silent for a moment, then commented, "It kind of makes you think, doesn't it?"

Goten turned back towards her with an armful of pants. "It does?"

She sat on the bed and looked up at him. "Well, if Vejita had never met your 'tousan, then he never would have met Bulma, would he?"

Goten put the garments in the bottom drawer. "Heh. You know, you're right."

"It just makes you think. Some people may never have met if it weren't for a series of specific events," Paresu explained. "What if I hadn't left my purse behind that day? What if some other person had picked it up? What if you never went to the airport that day? We never would have met. We would have met other people, perhaps fallen in love and gotten married to them, and-"

"No way," Goten interrupted with a frown. "I refuse to believe that. I think we would have met somehow, some way if not at the airport."

"I don't like the thought either," Paresu replied, "but it's possible-"

"No," Goten insisted. "I… no."

Paresu giggled. "Okay, Goten-kun. Let's just stick with being as happy as we are." She fingered the comforter for a moment, then said softly, "You know, some people actually think that love doesn't exist. They believe that people just become attached to others because they're afraid of being alone. They think that people like us are just being foolish."

The mattress squeaked when Goten sat beside her. He wound his arm around her waist and took her chin in his hand. "Well," he replied, "I prefer being a fool." Then he held her tightly and kissed her.

They parted, and Paresu tucked her head under his chin. "I'm glad."

Dinner (at a respectable Italian restaurant in downtown Western Capital) went by with no extraordinary circumstances. The supper was like any other meal for the average cluster of family and friends. The group talked and quipped in-between bites of food, and returned to the Briefs' home afterwards. There, they sat in the den to continue their dinner conversations and begin new threads.

They stayed up late that night as they exchanged various anecdotes so the Briefses and Sons could get to know Paresu better, and vice versa. Bulma also made plans for the following day to show her guests the highlights of Western Capital. They had not realized how late it was until the clock struck twice, and it was decided that it was time for everyone to retire to their rooms.

In her and Vejita's bedroom, Bulma pulled a silky pale blue nightgown over her head. As she straightened it she said, "Maybe one night you could share an old story. When Paresu is better acquainted with us, that is."

Vejita was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. After spitting into the sink, he replied, "I have nothing to say that anyone would want to hear."

Bulma padded over to her vanity and sat on the stool. "Not even an old battle? We talk about the old fights all the-"

"I've already told you that the wars I have been a part of were fought for much less righteous reasons," he snapped as he came out of the bathroom.

Bulma sighed inwardly. Vejita was always guarded about his past. With little hints he would unknowingly or accidentally drop now and then, she'd only been able to piece together a small picture of what life under Freeza's guidance was like. She'd always known, however, that the one image was only a small part of a whole gallery.

She picked up her brush. She ran the bristles through her hair as she gazed at her reflection, and soon the motion of her arm was automatic when she became lost in her weary image.

This must have been the first time she'd looked- really looked- at her reflection in years. A once flawless complexion was now interrupted with thin wrinkles at the corners of both her eyes and lips. Slight bags hung under her eyes, which were below eyebrows that were thinning just like her hair. Even her blueness of her locks had betrayed her; the only thing that kept them perfectly azure now was the dye she used every two months. Bulma put down the brush, and looked at her hands. The smooth skin was now wrinkly and thin, making her fingers look bony.

She had maintained herself enough that she didn't look nearly as old as others her age did, and with well done make-up she could hide most of the faults, but she wished she could just be young again instead of looking it. She'd gone under the knife and produced some moderately effective serums in order to mock youth, and she exercised regularly to stay thin and healthy, but none of those things made her feel truly young.

Bulma sighed. She used to stare at the mirror and marvel at perfection, but now she only mourned about how she had deteriorated and how she had to work twice as hard to even resemble the gorgeous woman she had once been.

She stood and trudged over to the bed, where Vejita was already under the covers. He saw her forlorn expression and raised his eyebrows.

"What's wrong with you, Onna?"

Bulma slid under the covers with him and then just sat there, staring blankly.

"Bulma?"

She suddenly whirled and threw herself on him, crying profusely. She buried her face in his chest as she babbled incoherently.

Vejita, never really sure what to do in these situations, just awkwardly put his hands on her back and sweatdropped. "Uh… it's okay…" Whatever "it" was, anyway.

She pulled away. "No, it's not okay!" she blurted out. "LOOK AT ME!"

Vejita couldn't stop looking at her; how could her crazy behavior not have his full attention? He looked her up and down cautiously. He saw nothing different.

Bulma saw her husband's blank expression and glared. "God, Vejita! How could you not see it?"

"… See what?"

She let out an "aargh" of exasperation and a few more tears slid down her cheeks. "I'm old and ugly!" she cried out and looked to him desperately for some assurance.

But the unfortunate Vejita had no idea what to say. He never did. From his vague recollection Saiyajin women did not care very much about their appearance, and all his other experiences with women didn't apply to his current situation. By the way she was staring at him, though, Vejita knew he had to say something…

"Well?" she nearly shrieked at him, and Vejita went into a slight panic that caused him to respond with the first thing he could think of.

"You look the same as usual."

When Vejita caught a flash of the fires of Hell in his mate's eyes, he knew that had been a wrong answer.

Down in the den, Trunks and Marron were laid back on the massive couch. The only light came from the flashing, bluish glow of the television on the opposite side of the room. The pale flickering lit the pair's faces as Trunks snugly wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders and she contentedly snuggled against him. When the others had gone to their rooms, the couple decided to watch a little television instead, but the bland late night programming was taking its toll as it lulled them closer to slumber.

Trunks was mere seconds from slipping into sleep when a slamming door and a noise on the staircase above the television stirred him. With some effort he cracked open his eyes and saw his father, with a pillow tucked under his arm, coming down the stairs. Too tired to ask or ever care why his father was reduced to couch duty, however, he resumed falling into heavy, blissful unconsciousness, which Marron had already achieved. 

Vejita tossed the pillow onto a couch perpendicular to the occupied one, snatched the remote from the coffee table, and sat back in his seat to see if anything worth watching was on.

_Click._

"And once again, the day is saved, thanks to… the Pow-"

_Click._

"And then I said, 'That's not my dog! That's my wife!'"

_Click._

"With this fantastic weight loss plan, I went from a size twenty-four to a ten in two weeks, and I feel-"

_Click._

"I love you too, Dave, but we can't be together because when my mother had the affair with Father Jacob she developed a drug problem and through her dealer she met Charlie, who turned out to be your second cousin, and when he became a doctor he had a fling with his nurse, and this was while I was brainwashed by that cult-"

_Click._

Vejita settled for an old horror movie, despite that from the first five minutes he could tell it had poor acting, an awful plot, and terrible quality in just about every other film element.

Ah, television. Very few things such as this provided mind-numbing distraction for hours at a-

Vejita blinked when he finally felt the approaching presence. There was a being advancing towards Earth at a fair speed, and he judged that it would arrive within the hour. 

Now, this had occurred a good number of times before, but in this case it was unusually interesting because this intruder did not seem to be much of a threat. That thought had come to him often in his past battles, however, and he was usually proved wrong with humiliating consequences. Of course, how many times could that assumption be wrong? Was it mathematically possible that every strange visitor to Earth was stronger than him?

Vejita glanced at his dozing son. Well, whatever the threat, they and a collection of others had become accustomed to dealing with it.

In his boxers, Goten leaned against the bathroom door, nervously chewing his thumbnail as he debated in his thoughts. Why shouldn't he tell her now? There really was no logical reason to put it off. It wasn't like she'd really be that surprised after what she'd witnessed two years ago. She must already suspect something, although it might not be that half of his DNA originated in another galaxy.

"Goten-kun?" called a sweet voice.

"Yeah?" he called back, pausing in his nervous gnawing. 

"What are you doing in there? Come to bed."

Goten ran both his hands through his hair and sighed. Okay, he would tell her everything now. Then maybe she could sleep on it and decide whether she wanted to be the mate of a Saiyajin.

He opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Paresu was already in bed, arranging the covers. She looked up and smiled that smile he loved so much, but then the beam changed into worry.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Goten stood by the bathroom for a moment, then took a deep breath and walked over to the bed. He kneeled on the floor at Paresu's side and took her hand.

Meeting her gaze, he said, "I can tell you anything, right?"

The smile reappeared. "Of course!"

"And you won't get… freaked?"

Now slight confusion. "Well, I suppose it would depend on what you said."

Goten nodded. That was fair.

Paresu's brown eyes widened. "Oh, I know that this is about."

"You do?"

"Well, you never did explain about that whole thing that happened before… with that weird guy… and all those bright-colored blasts… and the vegetable people…" She became apprehensive. "I've always wondered when you were going to explain it to me."

"You do deserve to know." Goten took yet another breath and gave her hand a squeeze. "Paresu, I-"

The door to their room swung sharply open and struck the wall. Paresu and Goten looked up to see an agitated Trunks in the entryway to their room.

"Goten, do you-"

"Gee, Trunks, ever hear of _knocking_?" Goten hissed, gesturing his head to Paresu, who looked back and forth between the two men curiously. "I'm trying to tell her something pretty important."

Trunks' face contorted into disbelief. "Goten, what the hell is wrong with you? I think there's something else more important going on."

"What are you talking about?"

Trunks pointed upwards. "Don't you feel that??"

Goten blinked, then jerked a bit when he felt a fairly powerful energy signature approaching from space. He had been too distracted by his situation with Paresu to notice it before. "Oh, man…"

Paresu was dumbfounded as she looked up at the ceiling. "Feel what?" She looked at Goten's concerned face. "What's going on?"

Goten let go of Paresu's hand and stood. "We'll have to talk about this later," he said as he took a white t-shirt from the dresser and pulled it on.

"Otousan is waiting out front," Trunks told him.

Both men were three steps from the door before an annoyed voice spoke up.

"Now wait just a minute!" Paresu snapped in a tone that was rarely heard. She got out of the bed and walked right up to the pair. "I 've been waiting patiently- _very patiently_- for two years to hear with that hell happened with that Bebi guy, and now you're telling me I have to wait longer? You said it yourself, Goten! I deserve to know what the hell is going on with you, your family, your friends, and all your secrets and why you have to be so hushy around me! You're not going anywhere until I get some answers!"

Shocked, Trunks and Goten stared at Paresu, who had her hands on her hips and looked back at them expectantly. The silence lasted for a moment before Goten smiled, leaned in and kissed Paresu on the forehead.

"Believe me. I would love to tell you, Paresu, but something's come up that we have to deal with right now." He pulled her over to the bed. "I'll tell you everything as soon as we get this fixed, but for now get some rest." With that, he left the room with Trunks and left Paresu standing alone at the foot of the bed.

She stared at the door for a few moments, then with a sigh plopped down onto the mattress and let herself fall back with her arms stretched out to the sides. She stared at the ceiling in silence and knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep until Goten returned.

_You'd better be worth all this frustration and whatever it is you're hiding from me, Goten-kun. _

I love you too much for you to be a waste of my time…

_________________________

Constructive criticism is much appreciated, praise is joyfully accepted, negative comments considered, and flames thoroughly analyzed for what little useful information exists within.

__


	4. Chapter Three: Unwanted Visitor

Disclaimer: For the millionth time: I don't own anything!!! O_O ::screams::

Author's Note: Hey, chapter three is here! O_O!!! ::shocked:: Does this mean that number four will also be out in a reasonable amount of time? Of course not, silly! ^_^ On an unrelated note, have you seen Spider-man yet? If no… WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?! Just kidding. ^_^;; I highly recommend it, though.

These chapter titles are difficult to come up with. O_o;

Chapter Three: Unwanted Visitor

It was near to midnight in a forest fifteen miles west of Western Capital. Most wildlife was asleep at this hour, leaving only the nocturnal awake to feed. They moved through the grasses, dirt, and branches with ease, the glow of the stars lending unneeded assistance as the creatures routinely crept through their dark habitat. The sleepless species and their surrounding vegetation now appeared inkier in the night. The only feature of the forest that came close to any other color was a lake on the outskirts of the woods. Its surface mirrored the slightly blue sky above and the twinkling stars that decorated the tapestry. 

Not far from the lake was a large bluff that jutted out from a neighboring expanse of barren, rocky land. Four figures stood atop the hill that overlooked the water and gazed around the area silently. Their demeanor suggested that they were waiting, but not what for.

"They're close," Goten muttered. Despite the chill, the young man was perfectly fine in his t-shirt, boxers, and untied sneakers. 

"I wonder if they mean well," said an older man. His eyes and hair were the same color as Goten's, although his spiky hairstyle was slightly swept back. He wore a dark blue suit, and the top two buttons of the white shirt underneath the cerulean jacket were undone. His tie had been loosened so it hung freely about his neck. 

"Does any person from outer space who comes here 'mean well,' Gohan?" Goten replied with a sigh. "When will it end? Trouble just seems to be attracted to us."

Trunks, still wearing the jeans, blue tank top, and sneakers he'd changed into after dinner, stood beside Goten and put a hand on the sullen man's back. "I know what you mean, Goten," he said, "but we've handled it before. We'll be fine." The purple-haired half-Saiyajin glanced at Gohan. "So this didn't cut your vacation short?"

Gohan shook his head. "No, we'd actually just gotten back home when you called me on my cell phone." He shook his head. "Videl and I must be loosing our touch. I didn't even notice it until you called." He ignored the condescending snort from Vejita, who leaned against the lone tree on the overlook, and added, "I didn't tell her or Pan about it. If this is about as serious as we think it is" -which wasn't too serious at all- "then there is no need to get them involved."

Trunks laughed. "They'll realize that you're gone soon, and they'll probably sense what's out there as it gets closer. I hope Videl doesn't kill you."

Goten rubbed his arm anxiously. "I know this seems different than the other times, but… I'm still worried. Otousan was always around before, and…" he trailed off, letting the others fill in the obvious.

There was a troubled silence before Vejita, who wore one of his many spandex suits and accompanying ivory armor, gloves, and boots, spoke. "Tsch. Well, Kakarot stayed dead this time," he said with some bitterness, "so you'll all have to learn to protect yourselves without his help."

Goten swallowed hard. "We don't know that. He came back before when we thought he was gone for good. Maybe-"

"He's not coming back, boy," Vejita said quietly. The harshness in his words, however, could not hide his regret that the only one to ever innocently provoke him to reach his full potential had passed on.

There was more silence before the youngest of the group finally responded with, "I know."

"Hey!" Gohan said, in a tone that was meant to divert the other three men's thoughts. "The others are here." He pointed up at the dark sky, where he could just make out four dark spots moving towards them.

Moments later, the four flying figures landed before the two Sons and two Briefs and said their greetings. Then they also stood in wait, small talk failing them.

One of the newcomers was a man of approximately four feet in height. His black hair was cut short about his ears and was disheveled as his black t-shirt and blue sweatpants. This was Krillin, a former monk and a life-long friend of the Son family (and of the Briefs family, but to a lesser extent).

Next in the new arrivals was Yamcha. In his younger years he had been a desert bandit with an awful fear of the opposite sex. He had long since changed his career and gotten over his phobia, however. Once a devoted martial artist, he now earned money as a professional baseball player. He was wearing his uniform at that moment, in fact. The clothing was dusted and smeared with orange-tinted dirt; he had received an important call from Trunks just as the game ended.

Close by stood Tenshinhan (more commonly referred to as Tien), who had quite the unique feature of a third eye on his forehead. He was tall and bald, and he wore a green tank top and loose emerald pants held up by a yellow sash. The baggy pants flapped over his black shoes, which were much like slippers.

Next to Tien was the shortest person in the group at around two and a half feet, known as Chaozu. He was an albino man with a doll-like appearance; he even had red spots on his cheeks. He wore a red and green hat that fit neatly atop his head, a white tank top, and green pants with tiny black shoes.

The eight waited in silence, and nearly half an hour later another speck appeared in the sky. The group straightened as it approached and prepared for whatever the intruder was planning.

Krillin frowned, then spoke up. "Is it just me, or were we actually right this time to think that we're against someone that's not about Goku's power level?" He paused, then continued, "Hell, they're not even above Vejita's power!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Vejita growled.

Krillin chuckled nervously. "I… uh… just meant that it seems like we're not up against what we're usually up against."

"They're probably suppressing their energy," Gohan pointed out.

"Well, maybe, but I don't have that feeling of dread like I usually do."

As what could now be identified as a space pod continued its rapid descent, Gohan followed it with his eyes and frowned. "Say, Vejita, is it safe for those things to land in water?"

Vejita shrugged. "Not really. Why?"

"Because that pod looks like it's heading into-"

The spherical craft hit the water with a force that created a temporary fountain. The surrounding land was suddenly saturated, and the shocked group was splattered with stray splotches of water.

"… the lake…" Gohan finished. "Vejita, do those things float?"

"No."

She was awakened when the pod suddenly began to shake violently. Thinking that the craft was just pushing its way through the planet's atmosphere, she was surprised to look out the window and still see the twinkling stars hanging in midst of space. She became confused when some light gray puffs wavered around the edges of her view, and eventually she realized they were clouds. The pod was heading down to the planet's surface backwards!

But if she had made it through the atmosphere, then why was the pod jerking around? Trying to ignore the strange growls and clanks echoing within the pod, she brought up the control panel and hit some keys. A slit opened in the roof of the pod and a red flashing screen came down before her face.

She yelled some random curses as she read off the information. The tremors were the engines struggling to stay on-line, but that was not the only problem. The fuel containment was leaking, and the energy cells that supported the electrical mechanisms were coming loose from their braces, causing the overhead light and screens to flicker on and off. The pod was so old that it was falling apart, proven further when she saw a sheet of the outer metal covering fling across her view to the outside.

With one hand she clacked at the keys on the side control panel while with the other she pressed at points on the screen. _Maybe if I transfer the power for the… No! Fuck fuck fuck! Okay, I'll just relax the engines and slowly return the power…_ Her eyes widened when, instead, the engines didn't come back on at all. In desperation her fingers swept rapidly over the keys once more, and when the pod had no reaction after she'd repeated the commands a few times, she'd realized that the control pad had locked up.

Before she could think of anything more to do, the spherical ship began spinning in its descent. She was thrown to one side, but forced herself back into the seat and kept herself there by firmly planting her hands against the walls. When her bright eyes caught the window once more, she cursed loudly as the pod struck water.

Some moments later the small ship hit the lake bottom, and she was thrown about once again. She sat up in the dark pod, which was now on its side, trying to catch her breath as she felt around for her doll. She growled in frustration, as in a small space it shouldn't be so difficult to find-

Her brow quirked up at a creaking, cracking sound, and she couldn't stop the cry that erupted from her throat when a chunk of the pod hit her on the head, followed by a strong surge of water. She was panicked now, as in only a few seconds the pod was halfway filled with liquid. She cursed again, diving under to feel around in the dark for her doll. Where was it? She couldn't leave without it!

When she surfaced- well, there wasn't much to surface to. She took a deep breath to go under again, but released the air when something snagged her around the wrist and began to pull her out of the pod.

Of course, it didn't matter if this being was trying to rescue her or looking for food. She was not leaving this pod until she had her doll! After some unsuccessful tugs to free herself, she slashed her nails across the appendage. Its hold vanished. 

The pod was only inches from being filled, so she drew in what air she could and dove under. She finally come to the realization that she could provide her own light, and when she formed an energy sphere in her palm she spotted the gingerbread-man-like figure under the dislocated cover for the extra compartment. With a kick of her legs she was able to snatch it up in her fingers before feeling a jolt as something wrapped around her ankle.

Suddenly she was out of the pod and in the murky depths of the water. The ki ball was still in her hand, and she could now see her rescuer. Her curiosity was lost, though, when she felt the prickling in her lungs. He wasn't swimming fast enough for her, so she yanked her leg from the other's hand. She threw the energy to the bottom of the lake- unfortunately into the pod- and heard a muffled explosion before she was propelled quickly to the surface.

The water drained from her ears and she could hear more clearly the sound of water splashing on the land around the lake and the complaints of several grumbling voices. Taking in deep breaths, she wiped the water from her eyes with her free hand and briskly scanned the collection of soaked characters on the shore. Putting them to the back of her mind for a moment, she rose from the water and held the doll before her.

"You okay, Jinja?" she panted and was silent for a moment. Then she nodded and said, "Good," before letting Jinja float beside her so she could wring out her hair.

"Jeez, lady," a voice behind her mumbled.

She turned and saw a man with tanned skin and dark, spiky hair inspecting some rather nasty cuts on the back of his hand. It briefly crossed her mind how strange his outfit was before he continued.

"You have a strange way of reacting to help," he sad, taking the cloth that had been hanging around his neck and tightly wrapping it around the wounds.

She didn't respond and floated right toward the group on the shore. They had all been standing in a line along the edge of the water, and she landed before them. What an odd group they were: an extremely short person lacking a nose, a being with an extra eye on his forehead, someone she'd almost mistaken for a doll until she'd seen it breath and blink, and a man covered in dirt. The other two men- another dark-haired one and a lavendar-haired one- were the only ones who didn't seem to stick out.

"Good…" She glanced at the sky, then returned her gaze to them "… evening, gentlemen. I don't suppose you could assist me in finding-"

"YOU?!" growled a voice behind the others, she looked up to see a drier man standing on a bluff overlooking the body of water.

It seemed her search had ended much sooner than expected.

"So, Saiyajin no Ouji," she spoke, "it seems you really are alive after all."

Vejita just couldn't believe it. He couldn't fucking believe it. It had occurred to him that it could be someone from his past inside the pod, which was why he had kept his guard up, but her never thought it would be _her_.

She looked a bit different, but only in terms of the aging process. She was a few inches taller than himself, but still carried herself in that same confident way. Her eyes were bright turquoise with gleaming white pupils, but slight grey bags streaked under them across her ivory skin. A familiar, pale red scar parted the golden-orange brow of her left eye, crinkled down her eyelid and cut into her cheek. Her small stub of a nose was turned up in the presence of the others, and a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of her red-orange lips as she neared the overlook with that instinctive seductive stride she'd always had since he could remember. She still dressed in the same simple yet provocative manner: a sleeveless red body suit that had a modest neck line but only when so far as to cover the uppermost portion of her thighs. It clung tightly to her body and left a perfect outline of her curves, from her hips, in to her waist, and out again at her breasts. She had grey gloves like Bra's, only they were longer. Coincidentally her red boots were also similar to Vejita's daughter's footwear, but again they were longer, stretching up her legs until only a few inches of pale flesh were shown between the boot and the short legs of the body suit. Her hair was like lava; it was a bright orange shade with hints of yellow and red, and it reached below her shoulder, except for the part on the right that curved around her face and occasionally brushed the corner of her lips. 

She stopped a few feet from the base of the protrusion, then floated up, Jinja following her, to stand just a few feet from him. Vejita still stared, his eyes narrowed into a ill-tempered glare, which she ignored, as if it was something she was used to.

"Serive…" he snarled, his hands curling into fists.

She nodded and looked him over. "In some places they'd insist you were dead, but in other places they'd say you were alive." She placed a red-nailed hand on her hip. "I always knew how resilient you were, so I agreed with the latter." Her eyes rested on the group staring up at them. "And here you are with this riff-raff."

"Riff-raff?" Trunks repeated.

"Who the heck is she?" Goten muttered absently. 

"With that skin, she kind of reminds me of Freeza," Krillin commented- too loudly, he would discover in the next moment.

The strange woman's bright eyes flashed ominously as she whirl around and bared her teeth at the short man. "What?!"

Krillin was taken aback at the outburst and was immediately unnerved at her murderous expression. _There's that feeling of dread…_ "Um… nothing?" he replied weakly.

Tight fists strained at Serive's sides. "I am not one to be compared with that… that… lizard _freak_!" she growled. "Understand?"

Before Krillin could even nod, a voice spoke up from behind her.

"You goddamn bitch!" Vejita raged, shaking with his ire. "You left me for fucking dead!"

The lava-haired woman turned back to the enraged prince. "Well, you're still alive, ne?" Her cool air finally faltered as she watched Vejita's twitching fingers form a burning blue ball. "Come on, Vejita!" she said, backing off slightly. "You would have done the same shit to me! Besides, it was decades ago! Can you really hold a grudge for that long?"

Serive did not see the others exchange glances at her remark as Vejita screamed, chucking the boiling ball at her face. She ducked and the blast flew by Krillin's head and whooshed over the lake, eventually colliding with a far-off rock cluster. Vejita lunged at her but she threw herself to the ground and rolled out of the way. Although Vejita was quick to keep up with her movements, she was just as quick and flew into the air as he threw another crackling attack. Vejita then followed suit and took to the air to chase after her.

The others watched, dumbfounded, Vejita miss the swift woman again and again as she shouted attempts to calm him.

Yamcha scratched his head. "So… should we do something?"

"We don't even know whose side we should be on," Gohan pointed out.

Chaozu was a bit curious about the strange doll she'd left behind. It remained floating in the air where Serive had been standing before Vejita's bloodlust had finally exploded.

"She doesn't seem too harmful," Trunks put in. "I mean, she would have knocked his block off by now if she was able." Trunks took a few steps toward the lake, over which the two were holding their chase. He cupped his hands together and shouted through the makeshift megaphone. "Hey, Otousan! I think you've made your point!"

_Otousan??_ Serive's eyes locked on the purple-haired boy and suddenly saw the resemblance between him and her attacker. Unfortunately, this gave the latter enough time to zip up to her and crunch his fist into her cheek. Her head snapped to the side as she was propelled downward, but she recovered from the blow in time to see Vejita's arm winding back for another hit. She moved to the side and he struck air.

A plan quickly came into place, and Serive shot to the ground. She was running as soon as her crimson soles caught the dirt. She sped over the bluff, snatching Jinja from the air, and quickly and discreetly pulled apart the two layers of fabric so four small black spheres rolled into her palm from a space between two stitches. She closed her hand and felt them crush into a powder in her fist. 

When she heard the irate prince finally land behind her she hurried toward the group. Serive was soon leading Vejita in a zig-zag path through the cluster of bewildered men. Despite that it didn't leave her much ground to escape, and no one was helping either her or Vejita thwart the other, she was able to dodge the Saiyajin's lunges.

Of course, after a few moments she decided it had been enough and it was time to put her plan in effect. She dashed behind the man with the purple hair, and in a flash she brought her forearm around his throat and yanked her arm back. His head snapped backwards, and his mouth fell open in a gasp as she'd predetermined. The wan woman covered his mouth with her hand, and the grainy substance fell from her palm and into his mouth.

Trunks tasted something bitter on his tongue and shoved the woman away. He was confused, but the surprise gave way to panic when his chest tightened up and he realized he couldn't breath. His eyes widened and his hands grasped his throat while he gaped for air. His body tensed, and as the pain in his lungs worsened he fell to his knees.

There was a shuffling sound and Trunks saw his father's gold-tipped boots come to a halt. The older man's voiced boomed in his ears.

"Stop it, Serive!" he demanded, his anger still present.

Serive was apathetic to Vejita's demand. "How long can a Saiyajin live without air?" she hissed.

"Stop it now!" Vejita repeated, the fury tainted with desperation.

"Will you knock it off and listen?"

"YES!" Vejita was understandably impatient, as his son was clawing at the ground. "Let him go!"

Amazingly, Trunks found he was able to drag precious air into his lungs, and with relief he let himself collapse onto his back.

"Trunks!" Goten hurried to his friend's side. "You okay?"

"I'm… pant… good… huff…" Trunks forced himself into a sitting position, leaning back with his palms flat on the earth behind him. His gaze fell on his father. "Bitter old girlfriend, Otousan?"

"What?" Vejita snarled. "Not in a millennia would I lower myself to-"

"What a lovely joke," Serive interrupted. "You must not know much about your father, boy." She laughed. "There were very few people that could get into his pants when he worked for Freeza."

Everyone could see the flush that crossed the prince's cheeks. "If you please, tell me what the fuck you are doing here."

Serive let Jinja float from her palm to sit on her shoulder. "I need your help."

There was silence from Vejita, and the others around them exchanged glances once again at the thought of someone asking the prince to help them.

Finally, Vejita exclaimed, "_You_ need _my_ help? That's a 'lovely joke,' since it has to be the most ridiculous thing I've heard in years!" He turned, showing her his back. "Why should I help you?" he demanded.

"I admit you have no reason to," Serive agreed, "but… you're the only person that can help us."

"I feel so special," the prince remarked sarcastically. "Exactly how did you come to the conclusion that I could help you when I won't?"

"Mother saw it in her vision." Serive thought back to that night on Wycan two months before…

_She sat by the bed where her wounded mother lay. Bandages were tightly wrapped around the queen's wounds, covering much of the visage the princess had grown to be the spitting image of, and the sovereign writhed in agony._

But the pain was not from the wounds; it came from the terrible dream she was afflicted with. Serive struggled to wake her mother, but the sleep was too deep to be broken. The fits were quite frightful. Her Majesty's eyelids were trembling and her body twitching, and she often burst out with quite terrifying moans-

Oh, she was awake! Serive was elated when the movements ceased and her exhausted mother's eyelids opened.

"Gods…" her mother breathed. Her gaze fell on her daughter and she stared at her for a moment, as if seeing her for the first time. 

"Are you okay, Mother?" Serive asked. "You've received so many wounds from Kouruji's soldiers."

She sat up, and a servant was quick to prop up pillows for Her Grace to rest on. "I will be fine," the queen soothed her worried daughter, then said softly, "but… I fear for you…"

Serive raised an orange eyebrow. "Why? I came from the battle unscathed."

"You must go," the queen told her.

"Go…?" Go where? _It was then the princess realized… "It was a vision you were suffering? Not a nightmare?"_

Her mother nodded. "You must find one to help us. It is far away…"

Serive shook her head. "I can't leave you alone here. It's too dangerous!"

"You will go," her mother ordered.

Serive pleaded with her eyes, but when she saw stone in her mother's stare, she knew that she was to follow her queen's command. "Yes, My Lady," she conceded.

"You know of someone…" the older woman began, going on with her vision, "… or rather you knew him… He is royalty, as you are, and you knew him those years ago when you worked for Freeza."

Serive thought for a bit. There were many princes and kings in Freeza's ranks.

"You used him to escape…"

Serive's eyes widened. "Vejita? But all the Saiyajins are dead!"

"You do not know for sure," her mother corrected her.

"But what if those rumors are false?" Serive herself had always believe the tales people had told of spotting a Saiyajin or two on several occasions over the years. When it came to deserting her planet in a time of war in order to search for one of the warriors, however, she suddenly wasn't so sure.

"Are you saying that my precognition is faulty?" the queen snapped. She was obviously insulted.

"Of course not, Mother!" Serive replied, "but-"

"You will find him on a planet in the Western quadrant… It's called…" Her Majesty struggled for a moment to remember that particular fragment. "It's called Earth." She turned her attention to the young servant who had retreated to the corner of the room. "Prepare one of the pods to be launched at sunrise."

And here Serive was, and her mother was right. The prince was standing before her, only signs of age differing from what she could recall about him. Well, and his son; that was quite a change.

The prince turned again, and his scowl was replaced with a smirk. "Oh, yes. I'd forgotten about your people's ridiculous religion." He leaned a bit towards her and sneered. "Well, I guess this shall show you how well your oracles can foresee things. You're on your own." His back was to her again.

Serive's eyes darkened and she grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "I suppose I should have known better than to expect you to empathize with a planet in trouble."

Vejita smacked her hand away. "What ever got it into your head that I would give a damn anyway?" he growled.

"What's wrong with your planet?" Goten asked out of curiosity, and shrank back when Vejita glared at him for doing so.

"Wycan is in chaos," Serive explained. "My father's Chief Advisor, Kouruji, turned on the royal family. He killed my father and announced his dictatorship over all of my people. Most of the population gave in, but the rest joined a revolt led by my mother and myself. We've tried for five years to kill him, but he is too powerful. Our numbers are dwindling, and we need someone to help us before Kouruji tires of playing with us and decides to kill us off."

"Well, I guess life just sucks for you then," was Vejita's cold response to Serive's dilemma. 

"Vejita!" Goten exclaimed scoldingly. "Her people are in danger!"

Vejita whirled on the boy. "Who fucking cares!" he snapped. "Lots of people are in danger! Plenty of people will be in danger! Some people have already been in danger, and they _died_ because no one else gave a shit! Why should I care what happens to the goddamn Wycanians?" Before he could hear anyone preach of doing good just because it was right, he swung back around to the glaring Serive. "You came all the way here for nothing," he spat. "Get in your pod and go."

Serive briefly pondered sending … what was his name? Trunks? She contemplated sending him into cardiac arrest, but that would achieve nothing since the amount she gave him would last no more than another hour. Any agreement she could squeeze out of the prince wouldn't last very long. Perhaps if he had no Saiyajin blood in him it would have lasted approximately a day.

But he must have had Earthling blood in him, since there was no sign of a Saiyajin female around-

"Her pod is destroyed," Gohan commented, breaking Serive's train of thought.

Serive snorted, now in quite the bad mood. "What a piece of shit. I would have preferred an updated model, if any existed. Ever since the fall of the Kold family space pods have been scarce because of lack of demand."

The Kolds: a family of three Ice-jin, who had come into great power over the last few centuries. Their goal had been to make an empire of the entire universe, so they were constantly conquering and purging planets. Mass genocide was another consequence of their greed, which was said to have stemmed from the destruction of their own planet by stray asteroids. Their reign was feared to be eternal, for an Ice-jin's lifespan was rumored to be a millenium, and even then talk amongst the soldiers had been that they were constantly searching for a source of immortality.

Of course, that was before they all died.

Freeza was the first to fall. It was thought that he died in the explosion of Namek, but he was rescued from space and repaired. Then he went and died on… Earth, Serive remembered, realizing why the planet name sounded so familiar when she first heard it. Lord Kold had died alongside his son. No one knew exactly how their demise had occurred, but there had been prattle giving credit to a Super Saiyajin. The same gossip had gone about when King Kold's other son, Cooler, had perished. 

Serive was going to ask about the occasions when Trunks suggested, "I suppose my okaasan could build you something."

Serive blinked and stared at the young half-Saiyajin as he got to his feet. "Okaasan?" she repeated.

"I didn't create him out of thin air, witch," Vejita muttered.

Serive's narrow gaze returned to the prince, and the others watched as her frown turned up into a vicious smirk. "Oh, I know that," she said lucidly. "I just assumed she was dead like all the others you raped."

Even though they hadn't spoken much, the group was nervously silent now. Vejita stiffened at the remark and his eyes widened. He grabbed Serive's arm and pulled her closer to him.

"The only reason I don't kill you for that," he hissed quietly, "is because I know you still have control over Trunks. But your power won't last forever, so I could watch my mouth if I were you."

Serive pulled her arm away and chuckled. "I gather it was actually mutual this time then," she replied, unfazed and not caring to lower her voice. "I'm surprised, I must say."

Vejita turned away from her again and tried to ignore the sickened feeling in his stomach as he felt all eyes on him, especially Trunks'.

Chaozu finally broke the uneasy silence. "May I ask… What is that thing?" He pointed to Jinja on Serive's shoulder.

"I was going to ask the same thing about you," she said and ignored the hurt expression on the doll-like man's face. "This is a gredabringe doll. On Wycan we sew them together and then invoke the spirit of an ancestor into it. They watch over us and help us when we are in need of guidance."

"While we're asking questions," Trunks jumped in, taking his eyes off his father, who'd retreated to the outskirts of the group, "what was that stuff you put in my mouth?"

Serive took the doll off her shoulder and held it before her so Trunks could see it more clearly. "Those are pletels that we store in the gredabringes to use for certain invocations." She seemed to take great pride in Jinja.

"I can't believe your people still believe in talking dolls," Vejita scoffed.

"It talks?" Goten repeated. 

Serive opened her mouth to answer, but Vejita beat her to it. "Supposedly through a telepathic link," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's just a delusion conditioned into them. They actually talk to themselves." He shot a pointed look at Serive.

"Don't mock my species, Saiyajin," Serive seethed. "At least enough of mine are still around to celebrate our culture."

Before Vejita could shout a retort, Krillin stepped between the two. "How about we head back to the CC and ask Bulma about that spaceship?" he proposed nervously.

"If it gets her back to her side of the galaxy, fine," Vejita agreed, keeping his hateful gaze on the pallid woman staring bitterly back at him.

Then, without warning, there was a flash of blue and Vejita was in the air, heading back towards the city without waiting for anyone to catch up. Serive narrowed her eyes, seeing the action as akin to a challenge, and was close behind him in the next instant. Not wanting to leave the two alone for too long or be left behind, the others quickly followed.

Struggling to keep up with the prince and princess, Trunks turned his head and said to Goten, "I think you were right about us getting into trouble."

The frowning Goten only looked straight ahead. "What else is new?" was the muttered reply.

____________

I tried to put spaces in the greater scene changes this time. ^_^;; I have to remember not to rely on Word to do that… Oh, and if you didn't realize it, Serive's little flashback 'bout her mom was just in her mind. She didn't narrate it or anything… Just making sure you knew.

Anyhow, you know how it goes. Constructive criticism is appreciated, praise used to inflate ego, negative comments used to humble, flames used for making smores. Yum! ^_^ In other words, PLEASE REVIEW! I'm an insecure little worm. ;.; Boy, someone needs prozac tonight. o_o Or maybe some sleep… Er… Carry on! o_o;;


	5. Chapter Four: Wary Compliance

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from DBZ or DBGT, and am using them for entertainment purposes only. No permission was requested from the respective owners, but I am not making any money off of my writings. So leave me alone! ;.;

Author's Notes: Wow, I actually got something done in less then nine months. .;; I would like to write more often, but seeing how it's so hot in New Jersey at the moment (It's been 100 degrees for the last two days. O_O), it will be difficult. Bah, if only we had central air…. Anywho, enjoy!

Chapter Four: Wary Compliance

They've been gone for over an hour," Paresu murmured, glancing at Bulma, Bra, and Marron. 

Unknown to the worried brunnette, the youngest Brief had awakened with she felt the ki in space. Bra had desired to tag along, but her protective father had ordered her to remain home. The girl now sat on the couch in the den with her arms folded across her chest as she pouted. Bulma had not yet given into sleep around the time Vejita, Trunks, and Goten were preparing to leave, so she was awake when her son came to tell her what was going on. Marron had come to when Vejita roused Trunks from sleep, and had remained on the couch ever since the father and son departed with Goten. Before they had left, however, Trunks either made or received calls from Gohan, Yamcha, and Krillin, and all three men agreed to make haste to meet at the estimated landing point.

Chi-Chi was left to sleep, as no one really knew what her reaction would be. All remembered how Goku's wife had once demanded that their son stay home and continue on with his education instead of training in order to save the planet. Of course, the protective mother had become mellower over the years, but no one wanted to risk upsetting her since it was unsure what the consequences would be. The reasons for not telling the raven-haired mother were not given to Paresu, however, as was the usual way the situation was handled when the model was around.

Paresu scanned the barely agitated countenance of the other women. "Why are you so calm?"

Marron yawned. "They're big boys, Paresu. They can take care of themselves. Why don't you just go to bed?"

"Why don't _you_?" was Paresu's quick retort.

"You just look a little irritated. I thought-"

"That you'd send the silly, stupid little model to bed so you could all conspire behind my back?" Paresu interrupted rather shrilly. She paced before Marron. "I know something strange is going on with all of you, and I know this nighttime rendezvous involves it. Goten was going to tell me everything until he left with Trunks and Vejita, and I," she paused to stop in front of the blonde and stuck her hands on her hips, "plan to stay right here until I get some answers!"

There was an awkward silence until Bra said, "Well, you certainly are a paranoid girl, aren't you?"

Paresu opened her mouth to reply when the door, built into the wall behind the couch Marron sat upon, swung open. Each woman focused their attention on the doorway as the persons they'd been awaiting filed into the room. They all exchanged glances when an unfamiliar ivory-skinned woman entered after Vejita.

The prince closed the door behind him as Trunks sat down with Marron, Goten made his way to Paresu, and Gohan stood beside Bulma. Krillin stood behind the couch his daughter and her boyfriend sat upon, while Tien and Chaozu found themselves awkwardly in the center of the room. Yamcha sat next to Bra, nodding a greeting. Serive, with Jinja on her shoulder, stayed by the door, Vejita at her side, and returned the stare of the blue-haired woman who looked between her and Vejita with possessive interest.

"Well, everyone," Gohan said, deciding to make the introductions, "this is Serive. Serive, that's Marron." He pointed to the pink-clad woman, who waved. "That's Paresu." The dark-haired girl looked at the pale woman with interested eyes. "This is Bra." He made a gesture towards the seventeen-year-old, who just studied the pale stranger critically. "And this is Bulma." He nodded his head to the scientist.

Serive immediately noted Marron's hand on Trunks' arm and Goten's arm on Paresu's shoulder. She also noticed the resemblance between Bulma and Bra, and focused her gaze on the older woman. "You are Vejita's mate then." Before Bulma could reply, Serive continued. "When can my ship be ready?"

"What?" Bulma looked at Vejita questioningly.

"Ship?" Paresu repeated, looking around the room. "Does Capsule Corp. make boats?" The frustration began to build in her again when she saw all the others besides Serive glance at each other. She raised an eyebrow. "Wait, do you mean a spaceship-"

"Paresu, let's go to bed, ne?" Goten interrupted, and he hurriedly produced an exaggerated yawn. "It's so late-"

"Hey!" Paresu tried to resist Goten as he carefully pushed her up the stairs. "But you said you'd tell me-"

"I said when the situation is resolved," Goten interrupted, and the couple disappeared from the others' view. "It's not quite fixed yet." The voice was softer then, and faded away as the two vanished down one of the many hallways.

Gohan turned to Bulma. "Her ship was destroyed in her landing," he explained. "She needs a new one if she is to go home."

"As soon as possible!" Vejita snapped.

"But why is she here in the first place?" Bulma asked.

"It doesn't matter." Vejita's arms crossed over his chest. 

Bulma's eyes narrowed, and she looked to Serive instead. "What's the problem?"

Serive stared at the aqua-haired scientist for a moment. She had not expected her to be much different than the Saiyajin, despite the concern their son had shown her. "The Saiyajin no Ouji refuses to liberate my planet from a murderous dictatorship."

"Vejita!" Bulma scolded. "How could you be so heartless?"

"Eh, Bulma-san," Gohan said, "I think you are forgetting who it is you're talking to." He looked pointedly at the prince, but was taken aback when the eyes that stared back boiled and a growl reverberated through the room. All fell silent.

"This will not be discussed," the prince instructed with the most intense severity, and no one even took a breath to question him. "I don't care why you think I won't help her, and I don't care if you want to help her." He sneered at Gohan," I don't give a damn what you and your brother decide to do." The onyx glare flashed to his children and wife. "But you will not become involved." His gaze narrowed to Bulma, but the intensity in his voice did not lessen. "She is to be out of here as soon as possible with no delay."

Bulma actually found herself shrinking back. Vejita had not even acted so austerely towards her in the years before Trunks was born. She thought she might actually burst into flames under his eyes until Vejita finally realized she was actually a bit frightened. She hadn't realized it herself until that tiny bit of regret seeped through his gaze. She did not feel worry over being terrified by her own husband, however.

She felt anger.

"What the _fuck_ is your problem?!" Bulma snapped, not noticing Serive jump a bit. Her focus was on her husband. "You march in here and scream demands at me without so much as an explanation and expect me to just follow your orders?" Now she had made her way across the room and her nose was centimeters away from the prince's face. "God, Vejita! I thought you had finally got it into that grossly deformed head of yours that you are not the ruler of this planet! I- Hey!"

Vejita had grabbed her and was now dragging her towards the nearby door to the kitchen. They vanished from the den in the next moment.

"Heh." Marron turned to Trunks. "I never really though about it, but your 'tousan does have a pretty big forehead." She giggled, but stopped when Trunks frowned at her. "What? Just trying to lighten the mood."

Serive stared at the door the couple had disappeared through as she tried to listen to the argument within. The princess could decipher little, but she could tell that the two voices reached the same range in hostility. It was expected, she supposed, that his mate have some Saiyajin-like qualities.

Her thoughts turned to more important matters. She could not return home unaccompanied. She would not doom her planet. Vejita had to come with her. It was obvious that the others were willing to help her, but if was just as apparent that Vejita was the strongest amongst them. She needed him, but no amount of begging- not that she could actually bring herself to her knees before the arrogant jackass- would change his mind.

There was a glint in her eyes. Of course there were so many other ways to persuade the ouji to escort her back to Wycan. Her mind began working at a plan, a plan with fewest variables possible and no room for failure.

_You underestimate my resolve, Vejita. We have obviously been apart too long. That shall soon be rectified._

Vejita closed the kitchen door. "You couldn't goddamn wait until later for me to tell you why I want her away from us?" he snapped.

Bulma sneered right back at him. "What did you expect me to do?" Her manner became mocking as she pretended to be meek. "Yes, my prince!" she said in a high voice with her hands clasped together. "As you command!" She returned to normal. "What did she do? Give you a good whack to the head?"

Vejita folded his arms. "I knew her a long time ago. She is not the type of person I want to be in my house."

Bulma's anger subsided at the implication that her husband was worried about his family's safety. "Is she more powerful than you?" she asked bluntly.

Vejita looked away. "No," he muttered, "but she is dangerous in other ways."

"What ways?"

He turned back to her, and the intensity he had unleashed before was beginning to show. "If you comply, she will be gone soon and you will not have to know."

Bulma crossed her arms across her chest, and now the two were mirror images of unrelenting stubbornness. The woman said nothing, however. It was obvious that her husband would tell her nothing more about the woman's abilities. She was curious, however, about another thing. "Is she… were you and she intimately… involved…?"

Vejita reddened. "Why does everyone keep asking that?"

The aqua-haired woman laughed at his expression. "Well, it's a good question, especially for me, to ask."

The prince snorted. "No, we weren't." The blush faded away. "Will you build the ship?"

Bulma was solemn again. "Alright, I will." She frowned. "You won't consider helping her out at all?"

His gaze darkened. "Not even if she were wounded and dying in our living room," was the cold reply.

"Vejita-" 

Before Bulma could begin a lecture, the kitchen door swung open and Serive came into the room. Vejita whirled around and was about to berate her for invading their discussion but the Wycanian cut him off.

"Don't concern yourself with it… Bulma, is it?" Serive continued before the human could nod. "Vejita is a grown Saiyajin, capable of making his own decisions, and I can see why he would not be too ecstatic to assist me." She smiled at Bulma, but there was still a glint of coldness in her eyes. She turned to Vejita, and the grin fell into a smirk as her eyes narrowed a bit. "I had hoped you would help me anyway, despite what has happened in the past, but its obvious that, as always, you won't be budged."

Vejita looked back at her and scowled at her cocky expression. She was right; he would never help her willingly, and any attempt to force him would surely result in her death. Then why did she look so sure that he'd change his mind?

"If I cannot somehow manage to convince you by the time the ship is prepared, Saiyajin no Ouji, I shall leave with no fuss." There was a flicker in her white pupils and the one side of her mouth crooked up even more.

And Vejita knew. He knew she had thought of some way to manipulate him. His eyes flashed to Bulma, who stared at the two of them curiously, and when his gaze came back to hers it was as if she were acknowledging his thoughts with her eyes. A low growl came from his throat and he leaned towards her threateningly, but she did not retreat in any manner. After a short stare down Serive finally turned away the made her way to the door.

Before going back into the den, she stopped. She looked over her shoulder at Bulma, than further back to the prince. "A human, eh, Vejita? I never thought you'd settle down with anyone, much less live with a weak foreigner and have two children with her." She ignored Bulma's glare at being referred to as fragile. "I do suppose if you couldn't find someone to train with, someone to protect would do just as well," she said, emphasizing "protect."

Vejita's fingers twitched as she left the room. That was it. He didn't even know why he hadn't killed her in the first place.

Serive stepped into the kitchen, and Trunks could hear more discussion. Since he could sense no escalation (although his father's ki had been abnormally tense all night) he did not follow.

He looked around at everyone. "I suppose it would be okay if you guys went on home," he said to all but Marron and Bra. "I think we'll be able to handle everything from here.

Tien frowned. "I don't know, Trunks. Serive and your otousan don't seem to be on very good terms."

"He hates her," Chaozu said bluntly, "and she's mean."

Yamcha stepped forward. "Don't you think we should stay just for tonight, anyhow? Until Vejita gets used to her being here?"

Trunks shook his head. "Nah, we'll be fine. You know how strong 'Tousan is, and Goten and I are here. Bra can even jump in if need be," he added, ignoring his sister sticking her tongue out at him for being mentioned last.

"We always assume things will be fine with the strongest," Gohan reasoned, "and it's always a mistake, Trunks."

"But the bad guy has always killed or wounded one of us by now," Trunks shot back. "Don't you all think its possible that for once everything will be fine?"

It was then that Serive came back into the living room, and by the time everyone looked up Vejita was close behind her. His arm was pulled back, and in a flash he had energy gathering in his palm. Serive's eyes flickered to the side at the bright light, and then suddenly her piercing gaze was on Trunks. 

The young man felt a jerk in his arm and heard Marron scream, and when he turned to his girlfriend he cried out at the sight of his own hand around her throat.

"Trunks! What are you doing?" Bra shrieked, and she was soon trying to help Krillin pry Trunks' fingers from Marron's neck.

Not that Trunks wasn't doing his best to regain control over his limb. It was difficult, what with the panic he felt at seeing Marron's face turning darker and darker and the alarming shouts of his father invading the concentration he could muster. God, this couldn't be happening! Marron couldn't die! Not like this, at his own hands! Not at all, not when he hadn't even had a chance to ask her to marry him! Trunks was putting all of his effort into yanking himself away, but even with the help of Gohan, Tien, and Yamcha his hand was like a vice at Marron's wind pipe.

"Stop it!" Trunks screamed when her eyes began to roll in the back of her head. "STOP IT, GOD DAMN IT!!!" And suddenly he was pulled over the arm of the couch, on the floor with Gohan, Tien, and Yamcha sprawled around him. He held arm up before him, and wiggled his fingers to be sure that they were free, that they were no longer pressing into Marron's delicate throat.

There was only heavy breathing from everyone now in the aftermath of their alarm. Serive was the only calm one, once again giving Vejita the same confident, threatening expression she had worn in the kitchen. 

"I shall see you all tomorrow morning," she said with mocking politeness before vanishing into a hallway.

Marron was standing now, carefully covering her darkening throat with a hand. Even though she knew that Trunks had not tried to choke her on purpose, she couldn't dismiss the horror she felt, even when staring at him now. He looked back at her, his wide, frightened eyes begging for forgiveness. But she was still so terrified, fearing what may happen if she attempted to give and receive consolation.

Marron fled the room, and Trunks got up to follow her. He was stopped by his mother, however, who shook her head and nodded to Bra. The young girl got up and chased after the blonde instead, leaving Trunks with the lingering helplessness and dismay.

"Should we pick our own rooms?" Yamcha said to Bulma.

Serive strolled down a hallway, looking for a room in which she could stay for the remainder of her visit. She had been looking for guestrooms for some time now, and had not seen another soul. Even when she found herself back in the living room there had been no one in sight; no one had wanted to stick around to see what else she might do. At least for now anyhow. A look at a clock on the wall told her that it was three in the morning. They all must have wanted a good rest before keeping watch over her. 

Like in other areas of the building, all the doors in this hallway were closed, so she picked a door at random. Her red-clawed hand rested on a knob, but before she cold open it she heard soft noises and a slow creaking of bedsprings. She passed that room over and continued down the hall, ignoring the following doors in favor a more isolated room.

That Paresu girl seemed to be out of the loop; she obviously knew nothing of Vejita's past, while all the other's did. Although with Goten's words when he dragged her it was obvious that he had meant to make her more included, and Serive's presence had ruined his intentions.

She heard more noises in the other rooms, although these noises were only that of shifting in beds, steady breathing or snoring, not sounds of coupling as in Goten and Paresu's room. Serive determined that she had indeed discovered the guest rooms. She walked down about a couple dozen doors down from the occupied quarters, chose another door, and opened it.

She had gone too far down. This seemed to be a storage room of some kind; not for broom and mops or circuits and tools, however. It was a small room with shelves on the three sides for keepsakes, and there were also boxes, some closed and labeled, others left open, in the middle of the floor. The Wycanian woman flicked on the light and closed the door behind her. She wasn't very tired; she'd slept a lot on her journey. A little research on how Vejita came to be here would entertain her for a while.

Serive looked around, wondering where she should start. She found a photo album, and after a few moments of studying the binding she read the words "Our Wedding" on the bind. She'd spent so much time on her own planet ever since she'd made it home, that it would take her a while before she was able to read other languages with no trouble. She flipped the album open and looked at the first two pictures.

In the top picture was Vejita's mate, in a room that appeared to be within Capsule Corporations. She was dressed in white garb with intricate designs etched into the bodice. Her hair was done up and held a veil that hung over her face, and a long train stretched out behind her. She held a bouquet of pink flowers in one hand. The other hand was frozen by her head, as if she were adjusting the tulle over her face as she looked in a mirror. She appeared to be quite happy in the photo, as did a dark-haired woman who was bent down and inspecting the train.

In the picture below that was the prince in a different room, as the mirror was on the opposite side and there was a window on the far wall. The prince was indifferent for the most part, other than looking somewhat uncomfortable in the clothing he wore. His attire reminded Serive in what she'd seen Gohan wearing earlier that night, only the princes pants and jacket were black and the shirt white. The ebony cloth about his neck was tied into a bow, and he wore shiny black shoes.

Serive flipped through some more pictures. Each photo assured her that a "wedding" was a joining ceremony, like the noijas on Wycan. Of course, like with all different cultures the traditions were different. Serive snickered to herself at one photo in which Bulma was smooshing a piece of cake into a surprised prince's face. In the next photo the woman was no longer laughing as the prince retaliated in the same manner.

"What odd creatures…" Serive muttered to herself, glancing at a picture of an long vehicle with dark windows and cans tied to a bumper on the back.

Serive closed the photo book and replaced it on the shelf. She selected a green one without writing on the bind and flipped it open. These pictures seemed to be at a much more casual event involving a grill and sprinklers and dancing. The photos weren't much more interesting, except for the occasional shot of a Namekian that raised her interest, and another man she hadn't seen in any of the wedding photos.

Serive whirled around when the door creaked open. The princess fell back into a fighting stance as a dark silhouette entered the room, but once the figure was clear, she relaxed.

"What are you doing?" Bra asked, keeping her guard up.

Serive looked back down at the photographs. "Learning."

"About otousan?"

Serive only nodded as she flipped a page. She frowned a bit. She had repeatedly seen the same man in many of the pictures, and what with his implied relationship with the Briefs family it was odd that he hadn't been there tonight. His hair was dark and spiked out every which way. He was tall and muscular, and in the pictures he was dressed in orange pants and a matching vest with a blue shirt underneath. Serive pointed at him in a photo in which he was laughing with a hand behind his head as a nearby Vejita rolled his eyes. "Who is this?"

Bra made no move to get closer to the woman, and did not respond.

Serive sensed the girl's caution and looked up. "I'm not going to hurt you, girl," she assured her.

Bra looked the woman up and down and took a few steps closer. Still some paces from the Wycanian, the girl leaned over a bit to get a better view of the picture. Her eyes flickered with recognition and she smiled sadly. "That's Son Goku," she said softly. "The greatest warrior who ever lived…"

Serive flipped the pages again to see more shots of the party. "Who said that? Your okaasan?"

"'Tousan did." Bra giggled when the pale woman looked up at her skeptically. "In so many words," she amended. "Goku was a Saiyajin, but he lived almost his entire life on Earth and spent most of his days protecting it."

"'Was' a Saiyajin? What happened to him?"

Bra moved closer and looked at the album. "He finally gave up everything to stop the chaos the dragonballs caused."

"Dragonballs?" 

Bra blinked and glanced up from the photo book. She was a bit surprised to find herself face to face with Serive, but she recovered quickly. "Oh, well…" Bra laughed. "Oh, there's just too much to tell. Anything I said would only lead to more questions."

"So? I'm not tired."

"Well, I am," Bra admitted with a yawn. "I only came here because… well… I was afraid you would…"

"I will do nothing else if not provoked," Serive told her. She looked the girl up and down with consideration, and continued. "Let's say you and I spend some time together tomorrow, and you can tell me this long tale of the great Son Goku."

Bra blinked, then shook her head. "No, I can't." She backed away. "No offense, lady, but 'Tousan says that you're dangerous, and I can't say I disagree."

"But, as I said before," Serive replied, "I only harm when provoked. You cannot say your otousan attacking me would not warrant some sort of retaliation."

Bra frowned. "You almost killed Marron."

"Almost, but didn't." Serive clarified. She was getting frustrated with her curiosity over the story of Goku and the reluctance of Vejita's daughter. "I promise you that I will do nothing if not encouraged. Besides, you are perfectly capable of protecting yourself, are you not?"

Bra hesitated, and Serive waved her hand in dismissal. "Just think about it. All I want is to hear a story. That shall do no harm, no?" the lava-haired woman closed the album and put it back on the shelf. "Now then, how about you show me to a room? Your home is quite… extensive."

"Alright," Bra opened the door, then closed it after Serive left the room. "We are billionaires, you know," she informed her and she headed down the hallway.

Serive fell into step beside her. "I figured as much."

Bra stopped in front of a room that, to Serive's content, was a ways off from the other occupied rooms. "Will this one be okay?" she asked, opening the door.

Serive stepped inside the room and quickly took in her surroundings. "Yes, this will be fine." She turned and gave Bra a smile. "Thank you for your assistance…"

"Bra," the aqua-haired teenager filled in.

"Bra," Serive repeated with a nod. "Well, you get to your own room. I hope you consider talking with me tomorrow." And with that she shut the door, leaving Bra alone in the hallway.

The girl set off to her own room, analyzing her experience with Serive. It seemed that the woman was the type who wanted to know everything about everything. The Briefs daughter had noticed how, like her father, the Wycanian was very observant; as the saying goes, knowledge is power, and it seemed to be her motto. But, like anyone, she wasn't perfect. Serive obviously took Bra for a silly teenage girl. She must have assumed that anything she wanted to know about Vejita, or anyone else, she could find out from his daughter, and therefore determine weaknesses that could be manipulated.

Well, the Briefs girl was not that foolish. After all, she had invited Serive to stay in a monitored room.


	6. Chapter Five: First Link to the Chain

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dragonball series or any of their characters and am using them merely for entertainment purposes. I make no money from any of my fanfictions (unfortunately =P).

Author's Note: Whew! Another chapter done! Yeah! O_O To be honest, the main reason it wasn't out sooner was because I couldn't find a bit of info I thought I needed. But just now I realized it didn't matter. .;;;; There's another flashback in this chapter, this time referring to Vejita's career as a mercenary under Freeza. (What kind of guidance counselor did HE get? o_o;) And… my God… I have a warning! O_o

Warning: There is a reference to rape in this chapter, and it will probably reoccur in future chapters. Thank you for shopping Gaia's Discount Fics: I write because I care. =D

Chapter Five: The First Link to the Chain

By eight in the morning all, with the exception of the commonly excluded Paresu and Serive, were in the dining room eating breakfast. Usually the Briefs family ate in the kitchen, but with the sudden additional number of guests, a larger space was needed. Chi-chi, who was understandably miffed at not being notified the night before, had been filled in on the situation. Now as all ate their breakfast, they discussed what to do about the most disliked guest.

"You were good to put her in that room, Bra," Bulma, with a smile, praised her daughter. "At least now we can keep tabs on her, even if only for a little bit."

"Has she done anything suspicious yet?" Bra asked.

Bulma shook her head. "I watched the tape this morning. All she did was sit on her bed for a while just talking to that doll of hers. After an hour she went to sleep."

Bra blinked at the mention of the doll. It was so easy to forget it was there on the woman's shoulder. She hadn't even really noticed it the night before.

"Creepy," Yamcha muttered. "Does she really think that thing is alive?"

"It could be," Tien brought up. "We've seen more bizarre things."

Yamcha nodded in agreement. "You're right about that. Well, anyway, what are we going to do about her?"

"I don't see why a discussion is needed," Vejita grumbled. "The solution is simple: build her a goddamn ship and get her out of here before she does more damage than she's already done."

Marron knew Serive's power well; sleep had not diminished the uneasiness she'd felt after what Serive had forced Trunks to do the night before. Her hand went to her throat, rubbing soothingly, until a hand fell on her shoulder. She looked up from her untouched plate and Trunks was smiling softly at her. She could still see the wanting of forgiveness in his eyes, so she smiled back and leaned into him as a reassurance that she still trusted him. Trunks secured his arm around her shoulders and they returned their attention to the continuing discussion.

"We should be concerned with how to protect those who can't stand against her while she's here," Gohan pointed out. "To do that we need to know everything about her and what she is capable of, and the person who would know the most about that is you, Vejita."

All looked to the prince expectantly. He was not too fond of the attention and scowled in response, but after a moment he spoke. 

"Serive is the princess of Wycan, heir to the throne. Wycanians are commonly thought of as what on earth are called witches and warlocks. They are very spiritual and fond of nature." Vejita sneered, implying what he thought of such beliefs. "They even go so far as to control their population so they don't have to damage their planet by creating more cities or gathering immense amounts of food. In addition to basic fighting skills, they protect themselves by the use of 'magic.'"

"But she didn't use any spells to control me," Trunks brought up. He stuck out his tongue. "She used that nasty grainy junk she put in my mouth."

"Pletels," Chaozu remembered.

"Whatever."

"They come from a plant that grows on Wycan," Vejita explained. "Apparently through their spirituality they are connected to the life force of the plants and their seeds." The prince rolled his eyes. "Therefore, when ingested by their victim- when ground the pletels can dissolve quickly and effect the body in a mere moment- the Wycanian can control the person's physical movements. Apparently, since all the people are in touch with nature, no Wycanian has been able to use the substance against one of their own species."

Bra listened attentively. So far she had found that Serive's species was quite interesting. Subjects such as witchcraft had always enticed her. "Can they be used for anything else?"

Vejita nodded. "A great deal of things, although I haven't seen much."

"Like what?"

Vejita paused, raising an eyebrow at his daughter's curiosity. "Well, for instance, if a Wycanian puts them onto an object, he or she will be able to lift it using their mind."

"What else?" Bra urged him on. Her elbows were propped up on the table and her chin supported in her hands. She stared at her father with an expression of pure fascination.

Vejita's eyes narrowed. "Bra," he said sternly, "I expect you to take this seriously."

Bra flushed and sat up straight against the chair. "I just think that the Wycanians seem pretty cool is all." She shrugged.

Something in Vejita prickled. "'Cool'?!" he shouted, and all in the room jumped. "If you find Serive so fucking entertaining why don't you go ask her to make your brother choke Marron again?"

"Vejita!" Bulma barked. "Calm down."

Bra gaped at her father. He had never looked so angry with her. He'd never been angry with her. "I didn't mean-"

"Otousan is right, 'Kaasan," Trunks interrupted. "Bra shouldn't be here if she's going to act like a child."

Marron removed herself from Trunks embrace. "She was only curious!" she argued. She looked at Bra supportively. "You have to admit that Wycanian culture sounds interesting."

"Don't defend her!" Vejita snapped. "If she's more interested in Serive's ridiculous way of life than in protecting her own family she can stop wasting my time!" At the last phrase the prince returned his fiery glare to his daughter, and in the back of his mind he was surprised to find that when Bra shrank back he didn't care. He was not going to tolerate her immaturity in this situation.

Humiliated with how her father was treating her and angry with him for doing so, Bra suddenly choked out an "excuse me" and fled the dining room. Her toppled chair hadn't even hit the floor by the time she had vanished through the doorway. Marron got up to follow, but Bulma sternly held up her hand to stop her.

"Bra will get over it," she said to the blonde girl. "Just leave her be."

Marron hesitated, then sat back down, but she still appeared worried.

It was now, in the awkward silence, that Vejita felt regret for being so harsh. But he merely coughed and muttered, "Anyway, that's all I can tell you."

"Well, we could just kill her," Chi-Chi said frankly.

Everyone looked up at the woman's straight-forward remark, then sweatdropped when they saw her polishing a frying pan.

"Maybe we should've woken her up last night," Tien muttered to Chaozu."

"Okaasan," Goten said slowly, "I think if we can avoid any deaths it would be better. I mean, she's a princess. If she didn't come back, what if they send an army to avenge her?"

"But she said that her government was overthrown," Yamcha reminded everyone. "I doubt there'll be anyone to send for her." 

All looked at each other, obvious considering Chi-Chi's methods.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Bulma stood and held up her hands. "Okay, I'll admit I was never really one to stand in the way of a battle, but I am really not comfortable with murder in my house!"

"We could do it somewhere in the Barren Plains," Trunks suggested. "It'll be like it never happened."

Bulma glared at her son. "Look, I know that you're all very casual with the whole death thing, but please don't treat it as if you're trying to get rid of a disobedient dog."

Bra sulked to herself as she sat in the swing, not moving. She had never meant to imply that she didn't care for everyone's safety. She had just been a bit enamored with Wycan society. It sounded so much more interesting than the life she had. She imagined what it would be like to be one with nature, to use the planet's forces to further her spirituality and to fight for her kind. Here, on Earth, she felt suffocated. Here she was surrounded by technology and taught to think practically and rationally. Here she had no desire to fight because, well, there wasn't really anything to fight for. On this planet people were materialistic and greedy and they had wars over ridiculous things like religion; it didn't really seem like much to save.

"How come you're not in there plotting against me too?"

Bra looked up, and Serive was leaning against the diagonal support bar of the swingset. Curiously, she was no longer in her tight-fitting red and grey garb. Now she wore looser jeans and a black t-shirt. She still wore her boots- Bra wondered if they were uncomfortable to wear under the jeans since they went up to mid-thigh- and her hair was still left to swing freely.

"Where did you get those clothes?" Bra asked.

Serive shrugged, and the movement of her shoulder's brought the girl's eyes to Jinja. "Found them in another room. You people must keep everything."

"There's lots of places to keep things," the girl answered still looking at the stuffed figure. She figured the clothes must have belonged to her mother or grandmother.

"You didn't answer my question."

Bra looked down at the dirt at her feet. "Who says they're 'plotting against' you?"

"It'll be nice and quick," Tien assured the inventor.

"Do you think she'll go with you willingly?" Bulma pointed out.

Serive snorted. "I'm not stupid."

"And may I remind you, as it seems that you've all forgotten, that the dragonballs are gone?" Bulma folded her arms and looked around at them. "What happens if you underestimate her and one of you dies?"

"Why would we underestimate her?" Trunks asked.

"Oh, I don't know…" Bulma shrugged and looked at the ceiling for an answer, then brought her gaze back to those around the table. "Because you _always _do?"

"But Vejita said she uses mostly magic," Tien countered.

Vejita paused in his eating and raised an eyebrow at the three-eyed man. "When did I say that?" He set down his fork. "I never said one manner of fighting was preferred over the other. Of course, most Wycanians, especially royalty, are masters of the spiritual arts, but I can't be sure about Serive."

"Why is that?"

"They're just… talking." Bra said.

"I'm sure." Serive muttered. "So, have you decided to tell me the story?"

Bra stood up from the swing, but still held onto the chains. She wasn't sure it was a good idea to even be around the woman, but her words from the night before made a point. If no one did anything to provoke Serive- and Bra doubted anyone would- nothing bad would happen. Her father would definitely be even unhappier if he knew that she was alone with the woman who he held an age-old grudge with. Of course, she wasn't very happy with him at the moment.

"It will take some time," Bra said, setting off towards the house. "We should take a walk. I'll get my jacket."

"Because Serive was the only Wycanian to come under Freeza's service," Vejita replied, and took a gulp of his juice.

"Vejita…" Yamcha coughed in his hesitation. "About that… would you mind telling us exactly how you and Serive came to meet?"

The prince met no one's eyes. He set down his juice and continued to eat. "Why?" he asked in between bites of food.

Bulma sat down next to him and set a hand on his shoulder. "Because it's something that we're all curious of."

Vejita swallowed and glanced up at all the expectant expressions. He scowled. "It's none of your goddamn business."

"Well, Vejita-san," Marron said, folding her arms and leaning against them on the table, "I'm sure if you won't tell us, Serive will, and there's no telling what she'll say in her version."

Vejita looked up at the blonde. He stared at her, considering her words. He remembered the things Serive had revealed and exaggerated the night before; he definitely didn't want her to happily bring out more gruesome aspects of his past. But after a few moments, he still said nothing.

Everyone exchanged glances, then went back to their plates to finish their morning meal, when…

"We met when we were young."

Everyone stopped in surprise, some with their mouths open to their forks, others with their mouths full of chewed up food. They looked back to Vejita, who braced his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his clasped hands. He looked at no one.

"We were only a year or so younger than Bra, although our lives were… different than hers."

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

It was a fairly average day on Freeza Planet Number 479, one of the many base planets the tyrant had around the universe. Warriors were being sent off to purge planets of their residing species and perhaps vegetation just as often as the soldiers that had completed their missions were returning from empty spheres. They were launched and received in the east wing of Lord Freeza's main compound, which had been built on the northern most point of the planet. Often the leaders of the ablution groups made their way into the center rooms of the monstrous structure to make their reports on their assignments. Afterwards they joined their subordinates in the mess halls of the southern wing, which also held the storage rooms for edible goods, kitchens, and the living quarters for the base's staff. The other quarters were in the north wing; the mercenaries lived apart from the servants because the warriors often harassed the hired help. It was less aggravating to have them live on opposite sides of the base than to constantly purchase new slaves. While the north, east, and south wings were provided with their own relatively large power centers, most of the compound's electrical functioning was controlled in the western wing. This part of the building also held the communications center and the paperwork created in the center area of the compound.

In one hallway in center of the massive complex, three warriors were on their way to Freeza's meeting chambers.

"Why doesn't Freeza-sama reward us for good work instead of just congratulating us every time?" Nappa asked no one in particular. He was a massive creature, well over six feet tall and ridiculously muscular. Unlike most Saiyajins, he was bald, although he did have a mustache. He wore standard armor of the black variety, which included shoulder guards, and black spandex shorts.

"'Cause he knows you're expecting some sort of reward, you idiot," Radditz muttered. "And he knows that Vejita-sama and I realize it's just to mock us and it aggravates us." Radditz's height just barely reached over the monstrous Saiyajin's shoulder, but the lack of physical stature was made up for in intelligence, although he himself was by no means a genius. In contrast to Nappa, Radditz seemed to have more hair than he knew what to do with; the thick clumps finally thinned out at the backs of his knees. Under his own armor (which was the same as Nappa's) Radditz had on a black leotard.

"I don't see why he would waste his time doing that," Nappa replied. Years ago he would become enraged with Radditz for being so disrespectful to one of the Saiyajin elite, but he had learned to tolerate the first-class warrior's sarcasm. Although he would never admit it, he would never be comfortable destroying one of his own. After all, there was just the three of them now, other than the brother Radditz believed might still be alive on one of the frontier planets. 

"He's just a sadistic bastard," Radditz answered. "Either that or he just has nothing else to do besides fuck Zarbon," he added with a snicker.

"Will you two shut-up?" said a commanding voice from in front of them.

The two fell silent immediately, of course. How could they not obey their prince?

At sixteen standard years old, Vejita was disappointingly only about five feet tall, and it was not expected that he would grow much more. He made up for his short stature with arrogance and power, though. Vejita was already one of the most powerful soldiers in Freeza's ranks. His near-black brown hair was swept up about his head like a flame and dipped into his wide forehead in a pronounced widow's peak. His skin was dark and tanned, although you could only tell so by his face. A blue bodysuit and standard white armor concealed his muscled torso, legs, and arms. White gloves were on his hands and ivory gold-tipped boots were on his feet.

Each of the three Saiyajin had a furry brown tail that extended from his lower back to wrap protectively around his waist. The tails were an important feature of their race; they allowed a Saiyajin to transform into an Oozaru- a colossal monkey-like creature- by the light of the full moon. Without a tail, he or she would be unable to do so, and his or her power would also decrease greatly. A tail could also be a source of pain: if it was pulled, spikes of agony would surge through a fighter's body. Back when Vejitasei was still in orbit, elite soldiers (like Nappa) and royalty (like Vejita) were trained to withstand such pain and eventually ignore it. Others (such as Radditz) had only the option of keeping their tails out of the enemy's grasp.

Vejita sighed inwardly. He'd only been back for about two hours and he was already itching to go purge another series of planets. Anything to keep him away from the revolting thing in the room at the end of the hall. His stomach turned a bit at the thought of the events that had unfolded in his last few meetings with Freeza without the company of his only remaining subjects. He hope the Ice-jin would be preoccupied and not feel inclined to bother with him in such a manner that day.

There was a sudden commotion behind them and the three Saiyajins turned to see two fellow soldiers dragging a girl down the hallway towards Freeza's control room. They had to haul her along because she was struggling and screaming with every step.

She seemed to be about Vejita's age. Her skin was pure, unblemished white and her hair was the semblance of lava. Bright aqua eyes with white pupils briefly fell on the three Saiyajins before flashing with ire at the guards. A black unitard hugged her torso and legs, revealing that, although thin, she wasn't very muscular at all, and a red cape fell over her bare shoulders. Her flying fists were covered by gloves that were also black, like her half-calf boots.

"Fuck you, you mindless bastards!" the girl screamed after spitting in one warrior's eye. "I demand you release me-"

The tall humanoid whose eye she'd spit in gave her a good punch in the stomach and silenced her. "Shut up, Wycanian!" He and his shorter partner continued taking their prisoner to the room at the end of the hall, and they passed by the Saiyajins on the way. "You're gonna be here for a long while," he muttered to the now silent girl, "so I suggest you get used to living here."

Vejita saw that they were headed for the same destination, and raised his objection. "We were here first!" he said sternly. "Freeza called to see us personally." The prince refused to wait for the tyrant to deal with some stubborn brat. He wanted to get in, be patronized, and get out.

The guard glanced back with a sneer, but didn't stop. "Well, Saiyajin, Freeza-sama also called us personally so he could see Little Miss Hellcat, and seeing as how you're lagging behind, you'll have to wait until his business with her is done." With that he opened the door to Freeza's chamber, and he and his partner pulled the girl inside.

Vejita seethed inside and resolved to kill the guard the next time he laid eyes on him. At the moment he had to deal with Freeza, so he set aside the thought and led the two other Saiyajins into Freeza's throne room.

The two guards stood before the lizard with the girl on her knees between them. They both stood tall and looked upon the dictator with respect and underlying fear, but the pale girl had her hands tightened into fists and glared at the lord with anger and disgust.

"Lord Freeza, as you requested we have brought you Princess Serive of the planet Wycan, home of the Wycanians," the taller guard announced.

Freeza's red eyes flickered between the guards with disinterest and set upon the girl with amusement at her unvoiced defiance. The tip of his long white tail twitched back and forth as he swirled a glass of red liquid in a black-clawed hand. He was obviously short in stature, but there was always a dangerous air of power about him that unsettled even the most powerful of warriors.

"I demanded to see her half an hour ago," the Ice-jin said. His voice was a bit high, but the tedium in it warned of the rumors that the ivory oppressor would kill warriors just for amusement.

The two guards immediately fell on their knees on either side of their prisoner.

"Our apologies, Freeza-sama," the shorter guard finally spoke. "She was being quite difficult."

The dictator's eye's never left Serive. "Difficult? She looks quite frail."

"Indeed, she does, my lord," the tall soldier agreed immediately, "but she is quite fiesty."

"Hn." 

Freeza got up and set his glass on the arm of his dias. He took a few steps across the red carpet and stood before the girl. On her knees she had to tilt her head a bit to look him in the eyes, and when she did so the Ice-jin slapped her across the face. Her head snapped to the side and Vejita saw that her eyes were wide with shock and that blood leaked from her mouth.

"Where is it, girl?" the tyrant hissed, grabbing her by the throat and turning her head so her eyes were forced upon him.

Serive only scowled at him. There was a sudden tightening in her arms, and although the guards were doing their best to restrain her one was free in a swift movement that brought her fist to Freeza's face. A thwack resounded throughout the room, but the white creature did not flinch. Instead his own arm returned the action by striking her in the stomach. Her body flew across the room and she landed only a few feet from where the three Saiyajins waited.

Vejita looked down at her writhing form in disgust. Weakness… The pain evident in her features and cringing movements screamed it. It was making him sick. It would have been a pleasure for him to put her out of her misery right then if Freeza hadn't been on her in the next moment.

The cold despot pulled her up by her arm and held her up on her knees. "No one escapes me!" he declared, digging his dark nails into her flesh. "Where is Wycan?!"

"I'll never tell you!" Serive screeched back. "I'll die first!"

Freeza sneered and with his free hand gripped her hair and pull her up so they were eye to eye. "You Wycanians are so foolish to believe that your magic will conceal your planet forever. The abilities of technology are growing as I speak, my dear, and soon they will make your puny spiritual abilities obsolete. Such a planet as yours, that doesn't rely on technology, is just begging to be destroyed by those who use it to their advantage!"

Serive did not reply in words; she spat in the conqueror's face instead, and received another blow to the gut. She curled up on the floor, trying to defend her vulnerable areas and deal with the pain at the same time.

Freeza brought back his leg to kick her again, but he noticed the trio of Saiyajins standing before him. "What the hell do you want?" he snapped.

Vejita quickly bowed, knowing that his two partners were doing the same behind him. "You called for us, Freeza-sama," the prince replied with the most sincere show of respect he could muster.

Freeza stared blankly at him, then he smiled tauntingly. "Oh, yes. As usual, Vejita," he said, "I just want to congratulate you three once again on the excellent job you are doing for me."

Vejita successfully masked his scowl. Any chance the sick Ice-jin got, he would always remind them of their place. They no longer fought and killed for their own ambitions or pleasure, they did so for him now, so he could expand his empire.

"I would continue," the lizard-like creature spoke, "but I am quite busy with my unexpected guest." He gestured to Serive, who had dealt with enough of her pain to be able to open her eyes and watch them. "Perhaps you should join me later after dinner, Vejita, and we can continue this meeting."

Nappa hesitated- Vejita could hear his slight intake of breath- before asking, "And me and Raditz, Lord Freeza?"

Nappa was so stupid. So goddamn fucking stupid. Vejita was sure that he would kill him one day. For almost a year now Freeza had asked for only the presence of Vejita at the additional meetings, and the massive Saiyajin still couldn't figure out why. Radditz had known for quite some time, partly because of his higher brain capacity and partly because he had heard the rumors going around Freeza's ranks. Nappa was unable to have any abstract thought and- besides Vejita and Radditz- only associated with those as dull-witted and isolated as he.

Vejita's eyes managed to wander to Serive, and he felt an instant need to kill her. He could see that even she knew through the all-knowing, observant look to her eyes as she glanced from him to the tyrant. 

"I've no need for you," Freeza replied dismissively. "You two may do whatever you like with your time off."

"Thank you, Freeza-sama," Vejita said in the habitual way. "We shall leave you to your more important matters."

"Why Vejita," the white monster chuckled. "I'm disappointed that you believe I think so little of you." He looked straight into Vejita's eyes, and the prince was instantly reminded of the events that had taken place at their last few private meetings. "Now, don't be tardy like you were last time. You know I hate that." The smirk, if possible, became even more sadistic.

"Yes, Lord Freeza," Vejita replied. He'd become used to keeping his shielded emotions out of his voice long ago, so it was easy to cloak his disgust and loathing.

The three Saiyajins turned and left the room, and Freeza gestured for the two guards to follow. Serive was left alone with the most feared tyrant in the universe.

Later that day, or what could be considered day on Freeza Planet Number 479, since as with most of the other base planets there was no sun to light its surface, Vejita was on his way to the throne room once more. This time, however, he was alone, not only in the unaccompanied sense but with his thoughts as well. Every time he tried to think of how to avoid these occasions, but nothing was promising, short of just running away all together. Even if he'd let go of his pride long enough to do so, it would not work, since whenever any warriors tried to escape, they were found and killed by the DIS: Destruction of Insubordination Squad. As with the Ginyu Force, few were privileged to see the members of the group unless they were one of the defiant soldiers marked for death. Some didn't even think that either crew existed; they believed that they had been made up to discourage disobedience and create fear, and anyone who had claimed to have seen them was in on the plot. There was no way to know. Everyone only knew that alleged renegades' bodies appeared daily by the dozen.

Although, Vejita did know for sure that the Ginyu Force existed. As Freeza's prodigy he'd been granted knowledge about many things. In fact, he'd had quite a few messy encounters with members of the elite warrior group. As for the DIS, he had no idea about that.

"Your room is on the third floor of the North Wing. Meals are provided around the clock in the South Wing. On your view screen in your room- and on your scouter- you'll receive your missions-"

"Missions??"

Vejita had been passing through a hallway juncture in the center of the compound, and on his right he looked up to see Serive and a general service servant. Serive had been dressed in warrior garb, to the prince's surprise: it was just like his own, only the body suit was red. The servant had a scouter in his hand.

"I can't go on missions!" Serive snapped. "I've never purged planets before!"

The attendant looked a bit irked. "I assure you, it's quite simple. You won't be alone. At first you'll probably go with other inexperienced purgers with training groups to the weaker planets. Later you'll be with the regulars on the tougher ones."

"But-"

"If by chance you're ever the head of a group you make your report here in the center wings on any of the first through fourth floors. Training halls are outside the complex to the north. Any questions?"

Serive sneered. "No."

The man sighed. "I'm afraid if you want to get out of this you must tell Lord Freeza what he wants to know."

The princess chortled. "If I did tell him, I'd still be doing this shit." She turned from him. "Just get the fuck out of here."

The slave hid his disdain and did as she ordered, retreating further into the innards of the complex.

Serive only took a few steps before she realized that Vejita was there. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

Vejita scowled at her and his tail twitched in annoyance. "A whining weakling, obviously." He moved to go past her and to Freeza's chambers.

"Really?" Her tone was mocking. "Then why would your precious Lord Freeza assign me to do your disgusting trade alongside you?"

The prince turned around. "Obviously to force you to disclose the information you hold. He knows that one day of eliminating all life and vegetation on various planets is sure to break your weak resolve."

"Wycanians are much stronger than you all make us out to be, Saiyajin," she snarled. "You'll learn that yourself yet."

Vejita laughed. "I'll be sure to watch my back," he patronized with a smirk before turning his back on her once again.

"Enjoy your fuck session."

With tightened, glowing fists and a vicious glare he whirled around to show Serive the power of a Saiyajin. But when he turned- and when he determinedly searched the other halls that came together at the intersection- she had vanished.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Of course, Vejita would never tell them all of this. The true account was watered down; such things like the events in his and Freeza's private meetings, the layout of the compound, and the actual dialogue in the conversations were just recalled in his mind. They were left out in what he told them: the basics. It was really only, if calculated mathematically, twenty percent of the factual circumstances. But it didn't matter that he had not told them everything. It would help neither him nor anyone else to know the exact happenings.

After summarizing the prince and princess' private encounter in the halls by merely saying that they had "exchanged some words that had immediately set a unpleasant tone" to their relationship. But he went no further than that and signified that he wouldn't by resuming his meal.

All took the hint and followed his suit; they would most likely get the rest of the story later on.

"Well, that would be the basics," Serive said quietly to Bra, who stood beside her outside the cracked kitchen door with her coat over her arm.

"But what happened to make him hate you enough to still want to kill you now?" Bra wondered aloud.

Serive smirked. "I may finish that story if you tell me yours." She gestured to a door that led to the front hall. "Let's go."


	7. Chapter Six: All Sorts of Truths

Disclaimer: Do I really need one? I mean, you don't really think I own the characters and junk, do you? O_o;;;

Author's Notes: I had a really horrible idea for this chapter a long, long time ago, but I didn't go forward with it. o_o; Trust me, it's better this way. You'll see so too, 'cause I think you'll be able to determine what it was for yourself. At the time I think I'd just wanted to do something that would get attention, but I'd prefer not to offend people in such a way. Anyhow, this chapter has a bit of a discussion about religion in it, but nothing preachy and what not. Anywho, go on and read, and for the love of God review, because I just want to know that someone is still reading this thing. ~_~

Chapter Six: All Sorts of Truths

"You… You've met God?" Serive stammered.

"Yes… well, this planet's God, anyhow. He's quite nice, although a little young. He took over after the other one-"

"There was another one??"

"Yes, you see-"

"But that can't be!" Serive exclaimed. "There is only one supreme being that rules over the universe!" She whirled on the girl. "There is only one deity who oversees all!"

Bra bit her lip. She had forgotten how defensive people could get when their beliefs were challenged. "I know it's hard to accept, but it's all true." Serive was about to denounce her claims again, but she rose her hand to hush her. "Each planet has its own God. All those Gods are presided over higher Gods, who are also presided over by others… It's quite an extensive chain of command. Every time we thought we had it right, there was another more powerful being."

Serive opened and closed her mouth a few times, then with a huff folded her arms and rose her nose in the air. "I refuse to believe such drivel!" she snapped before quickly walking ahead of the girl.

Bra rolled her eyes and was quick to catch up. "Well, if you want to hear the rest of the story, you'll have to humor me." She thought for a moment, then recalled where she had left off. "So Kami-"

"What's this place?" 

Bra suppressed a groan. She hadn't gotten very far in the tale of Son Goku because Serive kept interrupting about almost everything in sight. The woman was far too curious for Bra's sanity.

The half-Saiyajin girl looked across the street and saw what the Wycanian had been pointing at. "Oh, that's a church."

"A church…?"

"It's a place where people who are parts of certain religions go to pray. Collectively, they're all part of Christianity, which includes different specific faiths."

"You have more than one religion here?" Serive raised an eyebrow at Bra.

Bra gave her the same expression. "You only have one on your planet?"

"Of course! We're all part of the same species! Why should we need a different religion?"

Bra shrugged. "People on Earth each have their own individual opinions. Actually, it's impossible for even one country to have all its residents to agree on anything."

"Country?? What the hell is that?"

Bra yawned. She was getting so tired of explaining literally everything to the alien princess. "Well-"

"I'd like to go inside," Serive interrupted, seemingly forgetting her own question.

Bra blinked. "Inside??" She bit her lip. "I don't think we…"

Serive was already crossing the street.

"This is not a good idea," Bra muttered to herself as she reluctantly followed.

The church- its cross on the steeple standing proudly before all- was a rather large building, with the outside walls painted pure white. A simple wooden cross hung above the set of wooden doors that led inside the place of worship. There, row after row of sturdy, dark oak pews were lined up before a tall podium, covered by a green cloth highlighted with a gold cross and yellow tassels. Off to the left of the pulpit was a massive organ, and between the two was a bare area for a choir to sing.

It was very dim inside. The lights were only turned on in the evening, and in the day illumination was provided through the frosted skylights carved in either side of the pointed ceiling and through the open door. Hundreds of white candles planted in various areas of the church also did their best to brighten the church, and multi-colored light streamed in through the stained-glass windows, each depicting a scene that had been inscribed in the Bible.

The most resonant feature of the church hung on the far wall across from the front doors. A likeness of the Savior, Jesus Christ, was crucified on a wooden cross much larger than the other cruciform on or inside the structure. His hands were nailed onto either arm of the large T, and his feet were attached to the tail. His head, with eyes closed and mouth frowning, hung in sorrow, and a crown of thorns stretched around his brow.

It was a tribute to the Lord that would never allow Christians to forget how one loving man gave up his life for their sins.

"Depressing place," Serive muttered as she walked inside.

Bra anxiously trailed after her. "I don't think its proper for us to be in here," she said softly. "I'm not really part of any religion, much less Christianity."

"Ah, yes," Serive replied. "You've supposedly met this planet's divine one face to face… I guess there really is not reason for much religion for you…"

"Not really…"

"And these people… would not accept your presence if they knew you did not share in their beliefs?"

"No… They would actually be happy to see that we're 'considering' their way of thinking."

"Alright then." Serive walked further into the church and sat down in one of the pews.

Bra sat next to her uneasily. The distinct feeling that they should leave wouldn't leave her. "Why did you want to come in here?" she said quietly.

"I find other cultures interesting. With Vejita hounding your okaasan constantly about getting that ship built, I doubt I will have much time to observe, though."

"I could easily get you some literature on the world's culture."

Serive looked over at her. "It's much more fun this way," she said with a smirk.

"Fun?" Bra was getting worried.

"Do you know one way how you can tell a lot about a faction of people, Bra?" Bra shook her head. "By how they react to things. You can sense harmony if they all act the same, disturbance if behavior varies, and such."

_Oh-kay…_ Bra was a bit confused now. "What do you mean?" she whispered. "Why would you want to know their reaction to something?"

"Well, in cases that you want to take over, you need to get to know a race very well to spot weaknesses and strong points." Serive chuckled at the horrified expression on Bra's face. "Don't worry. That's not why I'm here."

Bra exhaled gratefully. She would've race home right then if given one more moment to comprehend another attempt at world domination.

"In other cases, you might want to see how people react just for your own amusement."

Now Bra was no longer at ease. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

At that moment there was a sound of many footsteps, and a group of people emerged from a doorway near the front of the church. There was about twenty men and women, all dressed in yellow chorus robes with green trim. They assembled themselves between the podium and the organ, which one man sat in front of. One woman surveyed the choir to be sure everyone was ready, then set herself before them and rose her arms gracefully. At the signal all murmurs hushed and the singers stood up straight with their arms at their sides. 

The organist began playing. His notes were spaced and low, and when the singers' voices joined in a disconsolate melody was formed. It echoed off of the tall ceiling and far walls so that the dreary song surrounded its listeners.

"This isn't anything like our religious gatherings on Wycan," Serive commented.

"How do you guys celebrate your faith?" Bra asked, leaning close to Serive's ear. She didn't want to disturb the chorus, nor their small audience that was scattered about the church.

"With an actual celebration!" Serive whispered, gesturing to the melancholy singing group before them. "This noise is the most depressing song I've ever heard! It makes me feel like I'm drowning in the sorrows of existence. And the implied mandatory silence is absolutely absurd."

"Not all of the songs are depressing," Bra interjected. "And in many other kinds of faith they are very animated in their services."

"Well, in our services we do not dress the same way." The princess pointed to the singers. "And there are no audiences or performers. Everyone dresses in the most expressive way they can, and everyone sings, dances, plays an instrument, or whatever it is they can."

"It sounds like a party."

"Well, yes, I suppose they would be parties." Serive snorted. "They do attract an awful lot more people than there are here right now."

"Well, this place is usually packed on Sunday mornings. That's when the standard services are."

"We have 'standard services' every day."

"And everyone has to attend?"

"'Has to'? All the people who come are there of their own free will." Serive paused, then leaned closer to Bra. "Do you mean that they forcefully herd people here?"

Bra giggled. "No. It's pretty much implied in their beliefs."

"You seem to know a lot about this religion even though you have no part in it."

"Most of it is common knowledge. Christianity is one of the major belief structures."

"Well, with your common knowledge, how do you think they'd react if that statue there began to move on its own?" Serive asked, nodding at the cross at the head of the room.

Bra raised an eyebrow at the odd question. "Well, they'd…" Bra trailed off. 

__

"Well, for instance, if a Wycanian puts them onto an object, he or she will be able to lift it using their mind."

She turned her head to stare at the woman. "You will do no such thing," she hissed dangerously.

Serive appeared amused at the girl's anger. "Why? What harm could it do? I only want to learn."

"Well then you can learn on your own, but no while I'm around." Bra darkened her glare. "That is a visage of these people's savior, a man who died to redeem all of their sins. If you sadistically play with that statue as if it were a puppet… You have no idea of the reaction."

Serive's eyes never left Bra's, although her gaze was impassive. After moments of studying each other, Serive's mouth quirked up into a smirk. "I shall leave them be if it will upset you that much."

The girl was shocked at the other's callousness. "What kind of religion do the Wycanians have to produce someone with morals such as yours??" she said through her teeth as she strained to control her voice.

"Morals?" Serive scoffed. "We have only morals that apply to each other. Other peoples with their ignorance and technology deserve little respect from us when they cannot even respect the natural environment that spawned them. We revere our planet, as it was that which brought us into the universe, while others ignore and destroy it ungratefully for selfish purposes. Your planet is the same as so many others, and we do not think highly of any of them."

"Oh, so that just gives the right to toy with innocent people?" Bra turned from her with a huff. "You are just sick, Serive," she rebuked softly. The teenager stood and moved to the aisle, then leaned over a bit to the other woman. "As if you have some sort of divine right to decide who deserves respect and who doesn't. Don't feed me that bullshit. You just enjoy messing with the lives of people you don't even know." She straightened, and with a snort said, "I don't believe I need to be around any disgusting sadists."

Bra left then, but when she'd made it to the sidewalk outside the church a hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. The same hand grabbed the front of her shirt, and Serive was snarling in her face.

"You stupid girl," Serive hissed. "How dare you scold me! I am your senior by at least forty years!" She shoved Bra away. "And while you're admonishing people, I suggest you have a good talk with your otousan! By the time he was your age, he'd sent about a few million people _he_ didn't even know _to their deaths_ without so much as a thought."

"Papa is different now!" Bra spat back. 

"Tell that to the men, women, and children he murdered."

"That was at Freeza's bidding-"

"Free will, Bra," Serive interrupted. "Vejita always had a choice. That decision was whether to kill or be killed, and he chose the path that benefited him. He could have very well chosen to die so he wouldn't be responsible for the deaths of millions of innocents, but he didn't. _That_, my dear, is not Freeza's fault, which is the excuse I'm sure that your whole family uses to comfort themselves." Bra tried to respond, but the Wycanian continued before she had a chance. "And while I do indeed find some pleasure in the suffering of others, at least I acknowledge it and have a justification for it. Vejita has just hidden his senseless sadism away and tried to deny it was ever there."

Bra stood her ground. "Don't try to change to subject, Serive. We're talking about you here, not otousan."

Serive leaned down a bit to Bra's height. "I'm just pointing out the irony of you remarking that you do not need to be affiliated with anyone who has ever enjoyed the pain of others." 

The blue-haired girl felt the strongest urge to hit the woman just then, but with a glance around them she saw that they had already attracted some curious expressions. "I'm not getting into this," she muttered, turning away from Serive. "Let's just go."

With that she set out for home, the visitor following behind her.

They walked back to the Capsule Corporation compound in silence. The sun was high overhead, so Bra assumed that it was about noon. Hunger was clawing at her stomach, and she was yearning for a good lunch. She glanced sideways at Serive, who had fallen into step beside her. They hadn't spoken since their argument in front of the church.

While Bra preferred not to think of the points the woman had made, she could not say that some of what she had said wasn't true. Yet, at the same time, she was sure that Serive has just been trying to get a rise out of her; the woman did seem to have an interest in psychology in addition to culture.

All in all, though, Bra did not want to make Serive more of an outcast than she already was. She recalled how at school new students were rarely accepted without a hitch. There was always a period of criticism from the locals, as they tried to discern whether the new person was worthwhile. Eventually most of the newcomers found a friend or two, or was even brought into a clique. Some, however, never found their niche and were left as outcasts until graduation.

Bra had always hated watching it, and hated even more how she was a part of it. She could never bring herself to just introduce herself to some new random person, not to mention it was one of the untold rules of her social class to never affiliate with someone who didn't fit in with them. As one of the richest girls in the world, Bra has predictably fallen into the popular crowd, albeit the outskirts of the caste. Many girls had tried to befriend her, but once they realized she had concerns past clothes and boys, they usually returned to their regular circle. Really, Bra only had a few real friends; all others in the so-dubbed "snobby" group were just acquaintances.

But Bra knew that being half-ostracized was so much different than being completely exiled. She didn't want that to happen to Serive, no matter what she had done or how many vicious personality flaws she had. Her own father really used to be just like the princess, and if he could change for the better after receiving some compassion, surely some friendship could also send her in the right direction.

Besides, it was not good to have such a dangerous guest in a feud with everyone in the household. 

They finally reached the Capsule Corporation compound, and Serive followed Bra around to the side door that led into the kitchen. The girl placed her hand on the handle, but before she opened it she looked up at the house's guest. She hesitated before saying, "So… you hungry?"

Serive blinked a bit, then recognized the need for a truce. "Sure," she replied indifferently.

Bra smiled, then opened the door. Serive passed through and she followed her inside. As the teenage girl looked at the clock on the wall, she saw that it was nearly one in the afternoon. "Oh, time for 'Kaasan's tea."

"Tea?" Serive repeated in the tone that she had been using all day when she did not know what something was.

The youngest Briefs filled a metal teakettle with water then set it on the stove. "It's a drink we have on Earth." She turned on the burner, twisting the knob to the moderate heat setting. "Like everything, there are many varieties. 'Kaasan just likes the regular kind." Bra picked up a tin on the counter and opened it. She took out a tea bag, then replaced the container.

"What does it taste like?"

"Like… tea, I guess," Bra laughed. "I don't like it much, but it helps keep 'Kaasan awake when she's working in her lab." She leaned against the counter, waiting for the kettle's whistle. "She'll probably want to talk to you about any specific modifications you'll need for your ship."

"Hmn." Serive thought over the things she would need, and worried a bit about the great possibility that the human woman would have never heard of any of them. "I fear that all my needs won't be met." 

"What will you need?"

"Well," the ghostly pale woman began, "I would prefer to have the ship be able to accommodate more than one person. Back on Wycan the rebels only have access to solitary modes of transportation- the outdated pods- so if as a last resort we needed to flee the planet altogether, we'd need quite a large ship."

"Okaasan already has some pretty big crafts in development for the government," Bra informed her. "We can probably just give you one of them."

Serive stared at the girl skeptically. "Will they withstand longterm space travel?"

Bra nodded. "Yes. She's actually had experience cruising outer space before, and she's actually been able to improve upon the ship she used."

"When was this?" Serive said with interest.

"Heh. That's all part of the grand story I was trying to tell you earlier," Bra said with a smirk. 

"I am eager to hear more."

"Well, you'll just have to wait until you and 'Kaasan are done with the plans." Bra cocked her head to the side. "Anything else you need?"

Serive was quiet for a few seconds. "A adaptable fuel tank. I doubt the same fuels are used here that are given at standard refueling stations."

Bra frowned. "That might be a problem. You'll have to help Okaasan with it. It's difficult to modify an engine to use a source of energy you've never encountered."

The princess shrugged. "Many fuels are quite similar. Hopefully it won't be to much of a concern."

A high-pitched whistle rang through the air, and Bra turned back to the stove. "Well, I'm sure she'll do her best to accommodate you. Gohan and Trunks will surely be helping her, and I might be able to pitch in." She got out two mugs and filled them with the hot water before dipping a bag in each of them. The smoky water clouded with brown.

To Serive's surprise Bra offered her one of the mugs. "Try it!" she insisted with a smile. "You might like it!"

The Wycanian took the mug hesitantly, sniffing the tea. She eyed Bra cautiously.

The girl laughed. "It's fine, I promise. It might be a little hot though."

Serive carefully put her lips to the cup and took a sip. Instantly she grimaced and stuck out her tongue. "You people actually drink this shit??" she exclaimed, setting the mug down on the counter.

Bra shrugged and put her mother's cup and the kettle on a tray with a small plate of cookies. "Actually, 'Kaasan is the only one who actually drinks it." She picked up the tray and turned to Serive. "Same time every day," she said, rolling her eyes. 

"I'm surprised anyone could stand that."

"Yeah, well…" Bra walked to the doorway. "Come on. It's about time you and 'Kaasan started plans for your spacecraft. I'll bring you guys some trays before I eat."

Serive watched as Bra left the kitchen with the tray. There was an itching in the princess' brain, and she blankly stared at the open canister of tea bags. She approached the counter and took a fresh bag from the can. Carefully, the Wycanian ripped open the top to reveal the soluble brown powder inside. After only mere moments a sinister grin overcame her lips when she saw how familiar it was to-

"Hey, Serive!" Bra called. "What are you waiting for?"

Serive chuckled and threw the bag in the trashcan. She was waiting for nothing. Everything had already fallen into place.

_________________________

Ah, and the stage is set… The next chapter should be coming along.. um… sometime… _; This is probably how I lost those fifteen people that actually reviewed…

Speaking of which, please say something, ANYTHING in a review or e-mail. If you loved it, hated it, whatever. I want to a) improve and b) just know that people are reading this! Thank you.


	8. Chapter Seven: The Risk of Trust

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Disclaimer: I own nothing more than my cutie cow pajamas. AND YOU CAN'T HAVE THEM! I'LL DIE FIRST! AHHH!!!

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Author's Note: To the reviewer Princess Pippi, to me, it doesn't really matter how "I'm sorry" is spelled in Japanese. In fact, everywhere you look there's a different spelling for everything. I'm going to stop using Japanese words altogether pretty soon and stick to the language I know best. As for Saiyajins' hair, it indeed doesn't really grow. The fact is, however, that it doesn't grow out of a certain style. So if it is cut, it will grow back to the way it had been before (like Goku's hair did pretty much instantly in what I believe was the first DBZ movie). At least that's how I've read it and pretty much interpreted from what I've seen. Alas, we do all know how unreliable the internet can be. =P And no one can explain the plot hole of Saiyajin facial hair. O_o We all love Vejjie with his fire-like hair and without a mustache anyways, right? GT Vejjie is just… wrong. I couldn't just leave him like that. lol Damn, this AN is long. o_O;

Chapter Seven: The Risk of Trust

Bulma blew a stray clump of hair out of her face as she reviewed her plans for Serive's ship. Actually, they were alterations, as her company had already been working on spacecraft and she only had to make some changes to an existing model.

Capsule Corporations had been developing transportation for space travel for the government for many years, giving federal scientists the opportunity to further study nearby planets. Currently the company was developing a better ship to satisfy the scientists' demands in exchange for massive quantities of money. Little did anyone but she, her family, and her friends know, however, that Bulma already knew how to build a spaceship that could very likely journey to the far corners of the universe. Going above and beyond the government's demands, however, would raise questions that, if answered, would cause great aggravation to her family and friends. Not to mention that the inventor didn't think the human race was quite ready for universal travel.

As for this non-human voyager, the Wycanian's demands would mostly be easy to fill, but others would take some time. The adaptable fuel container was one of the most problematic. Serive didn't know too much about fuel compounds, and asking Vejita had brought up just the same results. Bulma knew a bit from the samples she'd taken from the ship she'd taken to Namek, but she wasn't sure if fuel preference had changed since then.

Well, most fuels worked the same way. She could create some gadgets that would convert how the fuel was used, or maybe even the fuel itself. Or perhaps a number of fuel tanks for different types to create less chance of error. Maybe she could even make it solar powered, although some planets had no sun-

There was a sudden clattering that was punctuated with a crash. Bulma looked up from her notes to see Vejita standing perfectly straight and still next to a fallen pile of gears, bolts, and circuits that used to be one of her latest innovations. 

Bulma groaned and glared at her slightly blushing husband. "Vejita, if you insist on watching me like a hawk, would you mind not touching anything?!"

Vejita had not left her side since Serive had arrived, obviously concerned for her safety. Bulma couldn't really blame him, but the man could be hazardous when he was bored. Every five minutes one thing or another would catch his eye, and while she was caught up in her thoughts about how to alter this or replace that, he would stare and prod at it until it wound up broken or damaged.

"Vejita, if you want, you can go take a break and get Trunks or Gohan to watch me."

Vejita snorted. "No."

Bulma rolled her eyes and sipped her tea. She did appreciate his protectiveness; it was kind of nice to be able to see that he cared for her. But he was going to drive her insane!

Well, back to the ship. If she recallibrated-

***THUD* **

*CRASH* 

*CLATTER-CLATTER-CLATTER*

"DAMN IT, VEJITA-"

The door clapped open and Bra was standing in the doorway.

"Okaasan!" she chirped. "Pan-chan is here with Videl! So is Eighteen!" Then she vanished as quickly as she arrived to greet the guests.

Bulma chuckled as she got up. "As usual, when there's trouble, everybody turns up." She turned to Vejita. "Are you coming, or are you going to blow up my whole lab to save yourself time?"

"Ha. Ha."

"I can't believe you didn't tell us, Gohan!" Videl exclaimed with a frown.

"Hey, it's no big deal!" Gohan replied defensively. "No one's even died yet."

"Whatever, 'Tousan," Pan said, refusing to look at him. "You and all the guys just wanted all the action to yourselves!" She gestured to Eighteen, who sat on the couch, with Krillin beside her. "Even Marron's okaasan didn't know!"

Eighteen raised an eyebrow. "I knew."

Pan nearly fell over. "What?"

"I told Krillin that if it got bad enough I'd help deal with it." Eighteen cocked her head to the side. "You two didn't sense her?"

Pan huffed. "Otousan and Okaasan aren't so big on fighting anymore. There's no one around to help me refine my skills."

"Psh. What skills?"

"What?" Pan snapped, whirling around to see who had spoken.

Trunks was came down the stairs and approached the new arrivals. "Hey, guys. I was wondering when you'd get here."

"Oh!" Pan tried to hide her blush. "Hi, Trunks. How are you?"

"Okaasan!" another voice cried out, and Marron came bounding downstairs. She sat on the couch and gave her mother a hug. "I've missed you!"

Eighteen smiled. "How is life in the city?"

"Great!" Marron answered, then blanched. "Well, until now."

The cyborg fingered the marks on her daughter's throat. "So I've heard…" She hmphed. "So, where is this charming woman?"

Gohan shrugged. "We've tried to keep tabs on her, but she always manages to evade us."

"She likes to explore," Bra replied as she walked into the room. "Hey, everybody!"

Pan smiled at the girl, then frowned, "Yeah, well, we should just kick her ass and be done with it."

"What we should do is just build her a ship and let her go home," Bulma said, appearing behind Bra. She strode across the room- with Vejita right behind her- over to Videl, Pan, and Eighteen.

"She did only come here looking for help," Bra added.

Vejita snorted, but said nothing.

"That's what they all say," Pan said jokingly.

"What do they all say?" a voice asked from the stairs.

Everyone jumped, but they calmed when they saw it was only Paresu.

"Nothing," Bulma quickly covered. "No one says anything."

Paresu stared at them blankly, then looked around with surprise. "Oh! More guests." She descended the stairs and walked over to Pan. "Nice to see you again, Pan, Videl, Eighteen."

"You too." Pan nodded. "So, how have you been?"

"Fine, but…" Paresu glanced around the room. "Goten and I have kept to ourselves lately. I mean, it's nice and all, but I thought we came to visit you." She looked to Bulma as she finished. "I just feel quite rude. No one has even told me who that woman is."

"Serive?" Bra asked.

Paresu nodded. "Is that her name? Gosh, I didn't even know that much. I don't want her to think I'm avoiding her because of… well, because of her skin condition." She finished quite shyly, not sure if she was supposed to mention it.

Everyone stared at her blankly.

Gohan blinked. "Oh! Yeah, her condition."

"It's nothing really. Nothing at all," Bulma assured the model.

Marron nodded. "And she wouldn't just assume that you were avoiding her."

"Yeah, she probably didn't even consider it, seeing as how everyone has been so busy with her arrival," Krillin jumped in.

Paresu looked to the short man. "Busy? Who is she?"

"A Capsule Corporations client," Bulma replied.

"One of Goten's old girlfriends," Pan said at the same time as Bulma.

Paresu looked between them. "What?"

Bulma resisted the urge to give Pan a dirty look. "Well, she and Goten went out for a short while a few years ago. You remember, right, Trunks?" she said pointedly.

Trunks looked a bit surprised, but got the hint. "Oh, yeah! When Goten came with me and 'Kaasan on a business trip to… to…"

"Greenland," Bra blurted out.

"Greenland?" Trunks exclaimed.

"Yes, Trunks. Greenland," Bulma said through her teeth and elbowing Bra.

Trunks nodded enthusiastically. "Right, Greenland. For some reason I thought it was Iceland."

"Yeah, Serive is the daughter of one of our overseas clients," Bulma said. "Her parents passed away recently, so we have to… um… go over their file since everything is in her name now."

"Was their relationship serious?" Paresu asked curiously.

"Oh, no," Bulma answered.

"Yeah," Trunks said in unity.

Bulma groaned in her mind. "Well, it was sort of serious, but since we were overseas it couldn't last too long."

"Sort of serious?" Paresu repeated. "How long were you there?"

"Only a couple weeks."

"Two months." Trunks contradicted.

Paresu raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it only felt like two weeks," Bulma laughed half-heartedly. "What with me being in the office with her parents doing negotiations and all. How time flies..."

"You spent two months in Greenland?"

"Yes. Yes, we did."

"Oh, well…" Paresu looked at Trunks suspiciously. "Then why did everyone seem to be in such a panic when she arrived? Why did all you guys have to go get her?"

"We… for some reason… We hadn't gotten notice that she would be arriving the other night," Bulma continued, hoping that the questions would end soon. "When no one was there to pick her up, she called. They had to hurry since she'd been waiting for about an hour. She's a very important client."

"But why all of them?"

"… She needed protection." It had a sound of logic to it, at least.

"From who?"

"The Greenland Mafia," Bra suddenly spoke.

Bulma stared at Bra with wide eyes. Paresu did not notice the disbelieving look because she herself was also staring at the girl frightenedly.

"There's a mafia in Greenland?" the brunnette asked with concern.

Vejita had an odd look on his face. "Excuse me," he said tightly before vanishing down the hallway.

Bulma recovered. "Yes. They are after her because… because… her father did some bad dealings with them."

Laughter drifted from the direction Vejita had gone in.

Paresu didn't seem to hear it. "Oh, how terrible," she whispered, covering her mouth. 

"Yeah, they don't know she's here. We didn't tell you because, even though we trust you, we don't want them to get word," Trunks explained.

"Oh, I understand!" Paresu assured him. "I won't mention her to anyone."

"Won't mention who to anyone?" Goten appeared on the stairs. His hair was wet; he'd been in the shower, unable to keep Paresu from going off by herself.

"Oh, Goten-kun!" Paresu exclaimed. "I would have understood if you'd only told me!"

"Told you what?" Goten quickly said back, looking slightly panicked.

"About you protecting your ex from the Greenland Mafia when you picked her up from the airport."

Goten stared at her, then looked around the room at all the apologetic faces. "Oh…… Right."

"Why aren't you protecting her now, though?" Paresu asked.

"Tien, Yamcha, and Chaozu are with her right now," Krillin said. A half-lie; the three had been sent to look for the ivory-skinned woman, but it was likely that they'd been unable to find her.

"Oh, well, I suppose you all would have everything under control." Paresu appeared relieved.

"Control is something in the mind, dear." Serive suddenly appeared from the kitchen. She was still in clothes she had come across in storage; this time she wore black jeans and a green, long-sleeved shirt with her boots. "In reality, very few people have control over very few things."

"How philosophical," Bra commented. She was then a bit surprised, however, when the unliked guest pulled Jinja out from beneath her orange-ish hair where it had been sitting on her shoulder. That must have been the reason the small doll was so hard to spot; it couldn't help being hidden under the long locks.

Vejita reentered the room just then, and when caught sight of the Wycanian he once again appeared glued to Bulma's side.

"Shouldn't you be with Tien and Yamcha and Chaozu?" Paresu asked.

"Why would I be with them?" Serive replied, confused. She rested Jinja on a side table under the mirror on the wall then stepped away as she pulled back her hair.

"Because you're in danger!"

"What??" Serive froze with her hands holding her tresses, with the exception with the clump that curled around her face, up in a ponytail.

"Paresu!" Goten shouted, grabbing his girlfriend's arm. "Let's get back to our room!"

Paresu looked from his hand on his arm to his face. "What? Why?"

"Because… I don't know what to wear!"

"Goten, you're perfectly capable of picking out your own clothes."

"No, I'm not!" Goten persisted. "I'm actually very dependent. Especially on you. 'Cause I love you and all."

Paresu giggled. "Oh, honey, I love you too, but I've seen you dress yourself. I'll stay down here while you get dressed."

"But I really don't know what to wear. I… I wanted to take you to the movies today, and I don't want to look like a total slob and embarrass you."

The brunette's expression contorted into anger. "We saw a movie yesterday, Goten!" she snapped. "We also went to about every single mall in the area and ate out for every meal. And then when we get home you rush me to bed, insisting that I must be tired from being out all day. I've barely seen anyone but you for the past two days!"

"It's just that I-"

"It's just that you obviously aren't ready to reveal this huge secret to me!" Paresu filled in for him. Her voice cracked at the end, and Goten felt something tug inside when her eyes became shiny. "Two whole years with you, Goten-kun, and you still haven't told me anything about that day." She gripped the railing tightly with a pale hand. "Two whole years, and you still don't trust me to accept whatever is different about you."

"I trust you!" Goten placed his hand on hers. "I do! I'm just not ready to tell you yet!"

"Then when?!" Paresu nearly shrieked through her tears.

"Soon!"

"Soon? SOON?" Paresu yanked her hand away from his and glared at him. "'Soon' isn't soon enough! I'm tired of waiting for you, Goten! I'm tired of your dishonesty! I'm tired of being taken for granted!"

Trunks took a step forward to defend his friend. "Paresu, please, you don't understand-"

"What I don't understand," the brunette interrupted, "is why I have to be lied to and avoided even though Goten and I have been together for so long." She turned back to the dark-haired boy on the stairs. "When you can give me a logical, _honest_ answer, you can find me at the Hagashi Hotel." With that, she went up the stairs, pushing past Goten and ignoring him as he followed her.

"Well, that went well," Marron muttered.

"Greenland, Bra?" Pan snorted.

"His old girlfriend, Pan?" Bra shot back.

"A Greenland _mafia_??" Pan retorted.

"Shut-up."

Serive had finished putting up her hair. "A bit left out of the group, isn't she?" she commented.

"You stay out of this!" a voice snapped. 

Chi-Chi, glaring at Serive, emerged from another hall. She walked right up to the pale woman so that they were face to face.

The alien princess looked back at her with a curious expression. She'd been pretty much avoiding everyone in the household the few days she'd been here, and she hadn't yet met this woman. And just by her demeanor, Serive found that it might have been better if she hadn't.

Chi-Chi snorted. "If you hadn't shown up, my son would have no reason to lie to his girlfriend anymore. If he tells her everything now, including who you are, who knows what she'll think??"

Serive snarled right back. "Oh, well, I suppose then I should have just stayed with my people and watched them turn to dust before my very eyes?!"

"Chi-chi, Serive," Bra began tentatively, "I know this isn't the best of circumstances for anyone, but-"

Chi-Chi's protectiveness of her son blocked out Bra's words. "I must agree with Vejita on this. The sooner you're gone, the better."

Serive leaned toward the human woman menacingly. "So if I refuse to leave I should expect some violent action?" she said.

Chi-Chi appeared to clasp her hands behind her back as she smirked back at the Wycanian. "Perhaps. We can all get quite defensive when our home is in danger."

"And what makes you think it's in danger?"

"Experience."

"Experience, eh?" Serive replied challengingly. "I must say that if I had a bad habit of getting into trouble, I would find a much more durable and nasty weapon than that cooking utensil you have there."

Chi-Chi blinked. She brought her arms out from behind her back and the infamous frying pan was revealed in one of her hands. "How did you know that?" she asked in amazement.

Serive just folded her arms across her chest. "Perhaps, following what that girl said, you could all benefit in learning to trust people. You have all been kind enough to give me shelter and food, not to mention giving me a ship. I have no reason to cause you any harm, yet you insist that I have some motive that I've not revealed."

Chi-Chi folded her arms, frying pan still in her grip. "And we're back to experience, which has taught many that trust can let your guard down. In your case, I'm sure you understand, we cannot afford to blindly trust some stranger who has already attempted to kill Trunks and Marron."

Serive and Chi-Chi were locked in a stare-down for a moment or two before Serive finally looked away.

"Have it your way. I shall continue to avoid you all unless absolutely necessary." And with that she left the room.

"Was she expecting instant friendship?" Videl commented.

"God, Chi-Chi," Bulma muttered. "You could've provoked her into anything."

Chi-Chi turned to the inventor and waved around her pan. "I could've handled it."

"I'm sure."

"I could've! Psh, just because I haven't joined all the men in battle doesn't mean I can't defend myself."

"Okay, Chi-Chi." Bulma patronized.

"Just hush up." Chi-Chi's brow furrowed and she looked to the prince. "You didn't mention that they're psychic too, Vejita."

Vejita, if he was, didn't show that he was confused. "They're not…"

Bra swallowed hard. "Maybe… eh… Jinja told her?" She pointed to the small brown form that had sat right behind Chi-Chi during her encounter with Serive.

Everyone turned to the side table and stared at the doll, as if it would admit to its crime. But it merely sat where it had been placed, leaning against the wall under the…

Chi-Chi laughed. "The mirror!" She gestured to the mirror Jinja sat under. "She saw behind me with the mirror."

Everyone chuckled as if they should have realized too, but Bra shook her head. "I don't think so… I mean, it's not the right angle."

"What are you talking about?" Chi-Chi held the pan behind her back and looked over her shoulder. "Right there. Plain as day."

"You moved. You were over here." Bra led Chi-Chi a bit closer to the wall. "See? You can't see it at all."

Chi-Chi looked a bit disturbed. "No… I'm pretty sure it wasn't here." She looked around for confirmation, but no one had really noticed the minor detail of where she'd been standing.

After a bit of uncomfortable silence, Vejita exclaimed, "Oh, please! You don't really think that thing is alive, do you? It's just fabric and stitches!"

"And I'm just nuts and bolts and computer chips," Eighteen commented with slight offense in her voice.

"_And_ some human body parts," Bulma pointed out, "which allowed you to give birth among other things."

Bra stared at the doll warily. "It does have that magic plant stuff in it."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this…" Vejita muttered. 

Bulma yawned. "Well, as much as I'd love to contemplate the inner workings of Wycanian dolls, I'm going to make some tea and get back to work." She turned to go, but before going into the kitchen she said to Trunks, "Oh, honey, could you please show these three to their rooms?"

"Sure, 'Kaasan."

"Thanks." She then went into the kitchen, Vejita with her.

Everyone else dispersed as well, with the exception of Bra, who leaned against the back of the couch. She stared at the doll, wondering if perhaps… just maybe…

"Ugh!" Bra threw her arms into the air in frustration. "I'm just being paranoid. A doll! Alive? Really, Briefs, get a fully-functioning brain…" She turned to leave the room, when she heard a small noise.

She whirled around and stared at the doll. A chill ran down her spine.

Hadn't it just been facing a bit the other way…?

She approached the side table cautiously and reached out. Gingerly, she extended her arm… Slowly, slowly… Then she tapped it and jumped back, as if it would have tried to bite off her finger.

But the only change was the slight indent from her finger.

Bra felt some humiliation towards herself. She picked up the doll and stared at it. "Just a doll," she muttered, leaning against the table. But she contradicted herself once again, as the coolness of the wood made her realize just how warm the gingerbread-man-like figure was.

"Only from being near Serive's body heat," the girl assured herself, although her voice cracked in the process. "I mean, if you were really alive, 'Kaasan would've seen you moving around or talking or something on the videotape from Serive's room… Right?" Alive or not, it did seem rather silly to ask Jinja that. Even if it could do anything life-like, would it really tell or show her?

To avoid being frightened, even slightly, any further, Bra set the doll back down. She decided to go to her bedroom and read or listen to music. Anything to get her mind off the creepy little thing.

Later, though, the eerie feeling would return threefold when she opened her door to go downstairs for dinner.

A dismantled video camera lay on the carpet outside her room.

_______________________________________________________

Constructive criticism? Please? Puh-leh-heeeaaase? ;_;

As usual, more is on the way… whenever it gets done…


	9. Chapter Eight: Getting Her Way

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball GT or its characters. But my brother just bought a PS2 and the DBZ Budokai game. O_o It's quite interesting to actually see Vejita kick Goku's butt. Especially if you're playing as Goku. lol

Author's Note: Sorry for the usual long delay. Besides writer's block, I've now got college apps and a temperamental computer to occupy my mind. But I do my best. Hope you like this one.

Chapter Eight: Getting Her Way

Goten had never felt more miserable. He looked around his guestroom, recalling where Paresu's hairbrush had been on the bureau, the spot in the corner where she always kicked off her shoes, the now empty drawers where she kept her neatly folded clothes.

It had been two days since Paresu had packed her bags and taken a taxi to a hotel across town. Goten had called her numerous times. In the first call, Paresu had ignored his pleas and only asked if he was going to reveal what was going on. When he asked her if she could wait until Serive left, she hung up on him. After that, each time he dialed the hotel and asked to be connected to her room, the desk clerk informed him- regrettably, she assured- that Paresu wasn't accepting any calls.

Goten held the diamond engagement ring between his index finger and thumb. It sparkled conceitedly in the lamplight, showing off its perfect cutting and flawless surface. But Goten knew it would look even more fantastic if it were on Paresu's hand.

"Goten?"

Marron stood in the doorway with one hand lightly resting on the doorframe as she hesitated. Goten gave her a weak smile and mumbled for her to come in. She sat next to him on the bed and spotted the ring in his palm.

"I'm sure she'd love to wear it," Marron said, squeezing his shoulder.

Goten let out a dry laugh. "Maybe she would have."

"Don't be silly!" Marron tilted Goten's chin so she could look into his eyes and she smiled warmly. "Once you explain everything, she'll understand why you've been nervous about telling her."

Goten's hand closed over the ring. "Or maybe she'll freak and leave me for good."

Marron shook her head. "If she didn't leave after seeing you fight Bebi, she won't leave after you tell her about the Saiyajins and everything."

"Marron..." Goten's voice was tight, and to his own surprise he realized he was about to cry. "You've known about our families' history your whole life; it must be practically normal to you. Paresu doesn't know about any of it. She's just like other humans; she thinks that Videl's father is the world's savior. There's a good chance that she'll just think that I'm totally insane. So if I do tell her, why wouldn't she run away?"

"Oh, Goten!" Marron laughed. She held his face between her palms and kissed him on the forehead. "Because she loves you, stupid! And you love her! And even if she doesn't react well after you tell her, I'll bet anything she'd come back sooner or later."

Goten looked down at the ring again. After a moment he smiled. "I think you're right."

"Of course I am," Marron said in sarcastic smugness, holding her head high in the air. She giggled and returned to her usual demeanor. "Hey, do you think I'd get to be maid of honor?"

Goten frowned. "I thought it was 'matron of honor,' not 'maid'."

"Oh, well it's only matron if I'm married." She still smiled, but she looked downwards at the engagement ring. "And I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon."

Goten blinked, recalling his conversation with Trunks in the airport terminal days ago. He coughed a bit, trying to be casual. "So, uh, you, like, _don't_ want to get married?"

Marron looked up and gave him a disbelieving look. "What? What would give you that idea?"

"Well, I, uh... You just said you didn't think it was going to happen."

"I meant that I don't think Trunks is going to ask me. He would have by now if he wanted to." Marron flopped her hands into her lap and stared downheartedly at the floor. "I don't know what's wrong. I mean, he always seems so happy when we're together."

Goten almost couldn't believe this. "Have you tried _talking_ to him about it?"

Marron looked up. "Talking? I... I didn't think I would have to. I mean, I always imagined being proposed to out of the blue- a surprise, you know?- and for it to be romantic and everything. What's so romantic and exciting about deciding whether or not you should get married in a conversation?"

"I dunno, Marron. I always thought you'd be the type to bring it up if you wanted to be a wife."

"I never thought I would have to..."

Goten smiled. "Trunks is a great guy. But he's just that: a guy. And not all guys are going to know if or how you want the question popped."

Marron sighed. "I probably will talk to him about it soon, after everything with Serive blows over. I just wish..."

"Wish what?"

Marron giggled and shot up off the bed. She spun around and replied, "I wish I could have a lovely, perfect fairytale wedding!" She stopped her whirling and looked back at Goten. "But that's what every girl wants, isn't it?"

"I suppose." Goten grabbed a small box off the bed and carefully tucked the ring back inside. He snapped it close and looked back up at his friend. "You can still have that wedding, though, even if the question isn't a surprise."

"I suppose."

Goten put the box into the top drawer of the bureau. "So what are you going to do?"

Marron was thoughtful for a moment, then she smiled and grabbed his hands. "I'm going to get you out of this room and into some fresh air!" she laughed, dragging him through the door.

Alone in her own room, Serive came to an almost bizarre realization.

Vejita was happy.

When she had first known the man he had been a maturing teenage boy, fighting against the cage that was closing in on him. The cold bars that kept him under Freeza's wing had slowly been hardening him into the cold unfeeling warrior he was meant to be, even if he'd remained under his father's tutelage. But somewhere along the line, the bars had been bent and stretched out of shape enough for him to slip away. 

And over the next decades, the prince had strayed from the path leading to his bloody, cold-hearted destiny. Whatever had happened for him to do so, Serive would never understand, but it obviously had something to do with the blue-haired woman named Bulma.

"The queer reaches of love," Serive muttered to herself. She sat cross-legged and rested her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. The room was dark, and the blank wall opposite her only led to more contemplation.

She did not see what he could have possibly found in the woman for him to change his ways so much. Vejita could have taken control of this planet so easily, could have the Earthlings groveling at his feet, and could have them serving his every whim. He could have been living the life that so many of Freeza's other former soldiers fashioned for themselves but instead he lived peacefully with a wife and children who loved him without question. Even more unbelievable, there was little trace of the warrior left in him besides the occasional dangerous glint in his eyes and a gravity-altering chamber she'd discovered in her wanderings.

But, even if he didn't show it, or perhaps didn't even know it, Vejita was content in this subdued life, where there were only the stupid, ridiculous problems like figuring out what to wear or what to eat. He had seemed to have changed his entire life- to the point of turning his back on his own culture enough that his own children didn't have tails- all for the love of this woman.

Serive wished she had influenced someone so much that he would do anything for her. Or even had enough affection for someone to let her world revolve around what would suit him. But just someone to love would be enough.

She thought she'd had that at least once. But that had been nothing but deceit leading to betrayal. It had only been to lead her away from her loyalty to her family. It had been nothing but a show for her foolishness.

She felt such hatred then for Vejita and his mate and his children. 

Serive was suddenly jolted from her thoughts. She looked over to Jinja, who sat on the windowsill, and frowned. "What?"

The doll was lit slightly in the dark room from what light filtered in through the closed blinds, but even if the lights had been on Serive would have seen no movement from it.

"Don't be stupid!" she hissed at the doll. "Relov is nothing more than a goddamn traitor. An idealistic fool who let himself be led away!"

There was more silence in the still room.

"Silence, Jinja!" she snapped. "I will hear no more of this nonsense. Relov means nothing to me anymore, and when we meet again, you can be sure I will kill him for his perfidy." She turned back to the wall. "Of all the ridiculous-" She stopped and looked back at the doll. "What? Oh, yes. I suppose now would be as good a time as any." She stood and straightened her outfit; it was another she borrowed from storage: blue jeans and a v-neck purple t-shirt. She'd also found some white sneakers that were much more comfortable under the snug pants than her boots.

"I'll be back soon. We should probably leave for a while. Granted, it won't be such a lovely environment at all afterwards, but there are more likely to be attempts on my life directly after. We'll just give them time to cool down."

And with that Serive left her room and went to search for her prey.

"I've had enough, damn it!" Bulma snapped. She threw her arms up into the air in frustration.

"What?" Vejita replied dumbly. He leaned against a stack of crates amongst the other various objects in the room.

She spun in her chair away from her plans to alter the ship. "You've been following me around the house all day, looking over my shoulder, breaking everything in my lab, and it's getting on my nerves! I'm safe, Vejita! Nothing has happened! Everyone is just being paranoid!"

"Nothing has happened to you because she's never been able to catch you alone," Vejita insisted.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "We've barely seen her in the past two days. I mean, she can't even sense energy like you guys can. How will she know that I'm alone for five minutes?"

"I'm not taking any chances."

"Jeez, you're insane. I mean, we've been here all morning and near all afternoon, and I haven't even seen you use the bathroom once."

"Not taking any chances."

"It's right over there, for God's sake!" Bulma pointed to the little room in the corner.

"No chances."

"I know you have to go."

"What?"

"Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss..." 

"What the fuck... That is so childish, it's stupid."

"Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss..."

"Knock that off! It's annoying."

"And it's working. SSSSSSSSSSSSSS..."

"It is not!"

"I think I'll get myself a glass of water." Bulma picked up the pitcher and mug by her table, and out of the corner of her eye she could see a red-faced Vejita watching the liquid pour into the cup.

"How old are you?" Vejita grumbled.

"It's been such a looong time, hasn't it Vejita?" Bulma said casually, turning back to her blueprints. "Since early this morning? I couldn't last that long." She drank all the water in the mug. "I mean, water goes right through you, and you've had so many glasses of it yourself-"

She heard the slam of the bathroom door, and she smirked to herself. "Finally." Taking advantage of her temporary freedom, she got up from her seat and left her laboratory. 

After a few minutes she was in the kitchen, and after searching the refrigerator she placed an apple on the cutting board. She got a knife from a drawer, and just as she sliced into it-

"All alone?"

Bulma froze at the voice.

Serive smirked when she saw the inventor's back stiffen. She moved into the kitchen and sat on the table. She felt the dislike rise up in her again, and she did not care to hide it.

Bulma calmed herself. Serive's previous actions had only been for defense. She herself had done nothing to provoke the woman- she was even doing her a favor- so there was no danger. But those thoughts didn't ease the vulnerable feelings that pulled her spine taut. "The ship will be finished in about a week," Bulma said to ease the strange quiet. She didn't look at Serive as she cut up the apple.

"Good," the fire-headed woman replied.

They didn't speak, and so much silence passed that Bulma was sure that Serive had left. Yet when she glanced behind herself she yelped at finding Serive only mere inches from her back.

"Don't be so jumpy, Earthling," Serive snickered, moving away from Bulma and sitting up on the counter. 

More silence followed and when Bulma looked up this time she found Serive staring at her. Unnerved by Serive's disdainful expression, the aqua-haired woman sneered, "What's your problem?"

Serive blinked, then smirked. "I was just thinking about how easily I could snap that pretty little neck."

Bulma's gaze fell at the remark. Granted, she didn't know Serive well, but in previous encounters the woman had at least been somewhat civil with her, and this behavior was odd. She didn't know how to reply, but she supposed it would be best to keep quiet. Suddenly she felt it was a bad idea to leave Vejita's watch, even if only for a few minutes.

"You would be powerless to stop me," Serive continued, her stare never wandering. "You would be dead before Vejita could rush in and save you. Weak human…"

Bulma looked up with a glare, deciding to screw silence. "Sometimes it's better to be strong-minded than to have physical strength," she challenged.

Serive snorted. "I have met others much more intelligent than you." She smiled and added, "And much more good-looking. Why Vejita would have two children with an ugly, incompetent foreigner like you is beyond me."

"For your information," Bulma retorted, "Vejita happens to think that I'm beautiful." Of course, she herself had pitied her appearance lately, but right now that wasn't the point.

"Really? Did he say it to your face?" Serive confidently countered.

Now it was Bulma's turn to smirk. "Yes." And it was true. At certain times- well, usually in bed- the human was often able to get her husband to admit things he wouldn't even dare think about when others were around.

She was pleasantly surprised when Serive momentarily lost her cool air. When Serive's malicious smile returned, however, a chill shimmied up Bulma's backbone.

"Well, the more affection, the better," the princess replied, more commenting to herself than speaking to Bulma. Her gleaming gaze fell on the knife in Bulma's hand, and the inventor could see the reflection of the sharp tip in Serive's empty pupils. "You should be careful with that knife, human. You could cut yourself so easily."

Bulma's arm suddenly snapped upright, her fist clenching the dark handle of the knife tightly. Bulma stared in frightened wonder at her hand. Serive's gaze narrowed and the hand reacted by slowly moving downward, bring the sharp edge of the blade to her forearm.

Bulma whimpered as she tried to make herself stop, but the knife continued its descent. Even as the cool metal grazed her skin, Bulma could not pull away with all her will. Her hand held steady, pressing the sharp metal down.

Suddenly, finally, the flesh beneath split and the blade sunk into her flesh, red liquid swelling up immediately and sliding around her arm like a crimson band. At the spark of pain that ignited agony through her arm, Bulma's mouth jumped open and she screamed for Vejita.

She screeched and screeched for him even when she heard a group of footsteps clamoring to get to the kitchen. She was absolutely terrified because the silent, derisively grinning Serive was able to force her to mutilate herself. Even as Vejita wrapped a hand around Serive's throat and slammed her head into the cabinet, which cracked at the force, Bulma still shrieked. The blade had stopped marring more skin, but she could still feel the cool metal between parted flesh and see red fluid running down her arm.

"What the fuck did you do?!" Vejita roared, slamming Serive's head into the cabinet once more as Trunks pried the cutting knife from his mother's hand.

"Are you okay, Okaasan?" Trunks asked, tightly wrapping a dish cloth around Bulma's wound.

"Do I look okay??" she shrieked in reply.

"Say good-bye." Vejita brought a hand back and brought forth a glowing blue sphere in his palm.

Despite her lack of air, Serive let out a coughing laugh. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Her remaining confidence stopped the prince. "And why not?"

Serive grinned despite Vejita's livid expression. "I may not be able to control her when I pass on, but I can always store a little suggestion in her brain for her to carry out in case of my death…"

The way Vejita's face contorted clearly conveyed his desire to crush Serive's throat and watch as her eyes popped from their sockets and flew across the room, but with tremendous effort he was able to pull his shaking hand from her neck.

Serive stepped away from the cabinets. Her bright aqua eyes sparkled with triumph as she gazed at those in the room, then brought her eyes back to Vejita. 

"I have been supplying your mate with enough pletels for me to control her for quite a long time. I can make her do anything I wish, no matter how much she fights." She chuckled to herself. "I suppose you're quite willing to assist me now, Saiyajin no Ouji," she boasted. Her eyes fell on Bra's gaze. "I think I changed my mind about the usefulness of tea."

The witch left the room, and Vejita struggled to keep his rage in check.

Bulma wanted nothing more than for Vejita to hold her right then, but by the murderous intentions etched on his face she knew that now was not the time.

"I hope everyone is happy now," he hissed, staring at the door.

Bulma blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Everyone was so eager to help her, and now we are. I just hope you all enjoy the shit we're going to go through in order to do so." His tone was nasty and when he glared at her she felt as if she was being cut into. 

She hadn't felt that edge in Vejita in years, and it angered her. "Well, Vejita," she snapped, "I'm sorry that I almost fucking DIED and hurt your goddamn pride." She took a few steps towards him and gave him her best flaring scowl as she held the red-stained dishtowel tight around her arm. "I'm sorry that I had no idea she was taking control of MY body so she could make me do anything. I'm sorry that the loss of my free will has inconvenienced you so badly!"

The fury in Vejita was subdued somewhat as the prince regained control of himself and rethought his comments. "I didn't... I..." He suddenly yelled out and brought his fist down on the toaster, which crumpled like aluminum foil. "That bitch fucked me over again!"

"Again?" Bulma repeated. Her expression was less severe and now curious.

But Vejita only cursed to himself and ignored her question. His eyes fell on Trunks and he grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door.

Trunks followed hesitantly after his maddened father. "What-"

"Spar. Now. Before I blow up the fucking house."

The two vanished from the room and the slamming of the front door was heard a moment later. Bulma and Bra were left in the kitchen.

The older of the two picked up an open canister from off the counter. "So she ripped open the pouches and put ground pletels in my tea, then adhered them back together..." Bulma muttered as she stared into the container. She laughed. "And I thought she was actually going to leave without a fight." She emptied the tin into the garbage.

Bra looked down. "It's my fault. I told her about how you had it almost everyday. I mean, I know she asked me a lot of questions, but I never thought that any of them were dangerous questions! And I just got used to talking to her and it was almost fun explaining things to her that she didn't have to ask questions anymore and-"

"Bra, it's not your fault," Bulma interrupted. She smiled weakly. "No one expected this. I mean, I thought that if she tried to give those things to anyone we'd be able to taste them. I guess something in the tea changed that, though."

Bra slumped into a chair. "So what do we do now?"

Bulma sighed. "Finish the ship. Later we'll have to get everyone together and make plans."

Bra nodded and looked up at her mother. "Can I do anything, Okaasan?" she offered, still feeling guilty. "Do you want some tea?"

Bulma glared at her.

Bra, realizing her blunder, blushed. "Um... I mean coffee?"

"Just drive me to West Capital Medical Center so I can get this looked at."

A few hours later, Bra stood on the roof of one of the many buildings littering the Capsule Corporation compound. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating, trying to ignore her surroundings and just feel all the energies about her. It was difficult, though, looking for one ki within a city of hundreds of thousands. But Serive's energy would be more prominent then the others.

Bra's eyes snapped open. She couldn't do it, she realized with frustration. There was a sense of shame now. Even with her inexperience, it shouldn't have been very difficult to find such a large power amongst all the smaller ones.

Unless she wasn't in the city, Bra realized stupidly. She closed her eyes once more and tried again, this time ignoring the metropolis and extending herself further to the city's surroundings. At first she felt nothing, then there were her father and brother, who were still sparring to safely vent the prince's anger. She stood and felt her father's raging ki against her brother's waning energy, and for a moment she contemplated perhaps going to them and trying to calm her father before he killed Trunks-

There she was. In the forest bordering the barren, rocky spans of land her father often used to train alone, but now was using to pummel Trunks.

With a burst of energy Bra launched herself straight up into the clouds. She flew towards Serive's energy signature and wondered to herself exactly what she was going to do when she got there.

But soon enough her thoughts were erased by the simple thrill that was flying. To Bra, there was nothing more exhilarating than zooming through the sky. She could feel the clouds cushioning her body, the cool air electrifying her skin, the simple excitement that welled up inside her when she took sharp dives.

Ever since she'd been able to comprehend that her father, older brother, and all her mother's closest friends could fly- they could FLY, like planes and birds and bugs- she'd begged her papa to teach her. She'd been too young to actually acknowledge the hurt in his eyes when he asked if she wanted to fight too and she'd answered no. Why did she need to learn to punch and kick and blast when she had papa and older brother to protect her? She only wanted to fly, as angels and fairies did.

And when she finally learned, after a week of frustration and bratty sobbing, she had never been happier. Bra remembered swooping down into her father's arm and giving him a big, ecstatic kiss on the cheek. Even though he didn't smiled back, he blushed a bit, and the little girl knew that he was proud of her.

Bra wished things could still be as simple as when she was a child, but at least flying still held some magic in it.

Serive was very close now, and when Bra lowered herself out of the clouds she saw that she was directly above the forest. Far off to her right she could see two familiar golden figures causing sparks and shocks in the sky. She wasn't here to watch them, though, so she shot down through the trees.

Bra set herself to the ground and looked around for the Wycanian.

"He is quite amazing." 

The voice came from above and Bra looked up. Serive was sitting in one of the taller trees near the wood's border and watching the fight. 

"If we hadn't known each other in such circumstances, I might have managed to develop a crush on him," she commented idly, still not looking at the girl below.

Bra stared up at the white woman sternly. "You lied. You were never provoked to do that to my mother."

Serive looked back at her. "I needed help, and that was just about the only way to get it. Your father's refusal was enough provocation to do it."

Bra snorted and folded her arms, not aware of how much she looked like her father at the moment. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to trust you."

Serive smirked. "Such is the naivete of children."

"I am not a child."

"What exactly did you come here to accomplish?" Serive asked. "Are you going to scold me into submission?"

Bra hesitated. "I... don't know," she admitted. "I just wanted to know why, I guess."

"Because, in situations such as mine," Serive snapped, sounding very frustrated that Bra couldn't understand her actions, "you don't care who the hell is in your way. You do what you have to do or else you're letting down an entire planet of people who look to you for guidance and protection. As much as I regret letting him know, even if he doesn't care, I _need_ Vejita's help. The powers that lead the Wycanians have chosen him as the one to defeat Kouruji; he is the only one able to do it. I _will_ save my people. Nothing will influence me to do otherwise."

Bra stood still for a moment, pondering her words, but her expression once again became brooding. "Yeah, well, I don't have to like it."

"Never said you did."

The two watched the flying pair of fighters- now downgraded from their Super Saiyajin forms- finally cease their brawl. Vejita supported the much-weakened Trunks as they floated back to the ground. They disappeared behind the bushes that blocked Serive's and Bra's views.

Serive jumped down from the tree, and her hair flew back to reveal Jinja on her shoulder. She landed in a spider-like position: poised on her toes, knees bent outwards, one hand raised up and the other flat on the ground for balance. Her hair fell back into place, hiding the doll once more. "Are you going to come along?" she asked as she straightened.

Bra didn't understand at first. "What?"

"Well, there is a lot of room on the ship. I'm sure your parents will want some of their friends to tag along, but I'd rather you take one of their places."

"You want me to come along?" Bra hadn't even considered the idea at first. She'd become used to being left out of anything battle-related, used to being the stereotypical girl concerned with her looks, shopping, and boys. The idea had appeal, though. For so long Bra had felt bored out of her mind and often wondered what it would be like to have an adventure like the rest of her family had experienced. (The whole experience with Bebi was excluded. She could barely remember her possession.) Of course... Bra narrowed her eyes at the Wycanian princess. "Why?"

"I'm going to be stuck aboard a ship with hostile people for quite a long time. You have been somewhat kind to me, and you could make it bearable."

Bra didn't say anything.

"I doubt you'll believe me, but your okaasan will receive no harm from me. Your otousan will mostly likely be very cooperative, so I will have no reason to do anything to her." She paused. "If you consider my situation, you must understand my actions. And, if you think about it, I was being honest when I said I would only take more action if provoked."

Bra wanted Serive to just shut-up. She hated the woman then, just as much as she hated herself, because she _could_ see her side of things. She_ did_ understand. As she stated before, she didn't like it, but she probably would have done similar things if she were in Serive's position.

"I doubt I'd be allowed to go," Bra said, turning away. She felt a kind of shame, as if she were a traitor to her family because she could see things from Serive's point of view.

"Well, in the current scheme of things, I do have influence in the area..."

Bra turned quickly and snarled. "I will not use my mother in such a way!"

Serive smiled, and it was easy to see she was trying not to laugh. "You are indeed like Vejita sometimes. You have his temper in stressful situations." She looked up through a hole in the forest ceiling at the stars. "I suppose it would be a bad idea. You have no fighting experience. You most likely wouldn't fare well on the journey when we ran into trouble, which we most likely will."

Bra's grouchiness changed to worry. "Trouble?"

"Your father was a mercenary. He pissed a lot of people off. Many would love to see his broken body in shackles." Serive exhaled loudly. "It's going to be quite an ordeal to get him to Wycan..."

Bra's arms uncrossed and she unknowingly wrung her hands a bit. "Will... Will 'Kaasan be okay?"

Serive shrugged. "Maybe. There's danger for everyone on this trek. There are many unkind creatures besides me out there, girl."

Bra bit her lip. "I don't want anything to happen to her..."

"Well, Vejita and whoever else tags along will probably be enough to protect her. Probably..."

Bra knew that Serive was trying to convince her to go. And it was working. Numerous what-ifs kept popping up in her mind as she wondered what might happen to her mother out in the stars. 

Serive herself was wondering if her hinting at danger had convinced the girl to go to Wycan. She became confused when Bra's features became hard and focused and she marched towards the edge of the woods. The ivory-skinned woman followed her to the border, and she watched from behind the thick bushes as Bra ran towards her father and brother in the distance.

"For the love of God, tell me you're done venting your rage," Trunks panted. He laid on his back in the dirt. 

Vejita sat down a few feet beside his son. "For your sake, we can stop."

Trunks closed his eyes in relief. He'd expected to get a beat-down when his father first ordered him to spar, but he'd forgotten that Vejita trained to his limits every single day while the young Capsule Corporations president only did a simple work out when he could find the time. Trunks had gotten more of a thrashing than he'd bargained for.

__

Well, at least 'Tousan will be able to kick this Kouruji guy's ass, Trunks told himself.

The man did wish he could train more, if only to spend more time with his father. There had been very little of that in his childhood, and there was even less of it now, what with Trunks' demanding position in the family company. Trunks very often felt envious of his little sister. She'd been born after his father had finally accepted how important his family was to him. She'd gotten ten times more attention than her brother had ever been privileged to, although Trunks did concede that being a girl had something to do with it. Bra was definitely a daddy's girl; she had their father on a leash and could get him to do anything with a single sniffle or a flash of puppy eyes. 

At least the lack of time he and his father spent together made the rare occasions even more significant. Although that was the only good thing about it. 

"Otousan!" a high voice shouted.

The two men looked with surprise towards the forest. Bra was racing over to them, and she had the most determined look on her face they had ever seen.

She was soon standing over them. She looked at her brother with a raised eyebrow. "Wow, Trunks, you look like shit."

Trunks wanted to give her the finger, but he couldn't find the energy. He settled for unintelligible muttering.

"What are you doing here?" Vejita asked as he got to his feet.

"Train me."

Her father only stared at her with a look of utter incomprehensibility. 

Bra stared back. "What?"

Vejita blinked. "Trunks must have got a good one in on my head and I didn't notice. Repeat that."

Bra tightened her hands into fists and held them up to her chin in an earnest gesture. "I want you to train me to fight! I want to go with you guys into space! I want to help."

Vejita only stared at her again.

"Um... 'Tousan? Hello?" Bra waved a hand in front of his face.

"Oh, jeez." Trunks groaned as he pushed himself up. Now he was leaning back and supporting his battered upper body on his hands. "Bra, give me a break."

Bra jerked her head to glare at him. "Excuse me?"

"Bra, all you can do is fly and _maybe_ fry toast." Trunks snorted. "What makes you think you'll be any help?"

"I_ can_ help!" Bra insisted, holding her arms out to her sides in a pleading gesture. "I can get better! 'Tousan can train me to use ki and fight and-"

"Fighting is serious stuff, Bra!" Trunks snapped. "It's not an excuse for more attention!"

"What?!" Bra gaped at him. "First of all, I _am_ being serious! I want to help protect 'Kaasan on the trip to Wycan! And I am _not_ just doing this for 'Tousan's attention!"

"Could have fooled me," Trunks grumbled to himself, refusing to look at her.

Bra sighed in frustration and turned back to her father, who had recuperated from his shock. "Will you do it? Can I go?"

Vejita frowned. "For one thing, there's no time. We're leaving in a week. You can't be trained in that timeframe. You couldn't even fly in that amount of time." His solemn frown darkened into a stern glare. "I don't want you accompanying us anyway. It's not safe for you."

"Don't leave me behind!" Bra begged. "I really can help! Strength in numbers, right? And... and... you can train me while we travel, can't you? Discipline exercises and everything? We'll stop on planets, right? To refuel and everything? We can do the physical parts while we wait! And-"

"How the hell did you get this idea into your head anyway?" Vejita snapped.

"She does have the potential, Vejita."

The prince growled at Serive, who had joined them while they argued. "I see. First you take control of my son, then my wife, and now you're manipulating my daughter."

Serive smirked and propped a hand on her hip. "She wants to go, Vejita. I think she should. And since I know you know better than to go against me at the moment, I think you should let her."

"I told you I don't want that kind of help from you!" Bra said quickly. She grimaced, not wanting her father to think that she would threaten her mother for her own benefit.

"And I told you that I want you to go!" Serive retorted. She looked back to Vejita. "I've grown fond of your daughter. I think she would be a nice traveling companion."

"She's not going." Vejita took a step towards the princess and raised his fist. "And I don't like you associating with her."

Serive laughed, not caring if it irked the prince. "Oh, she's going, and I'll associate all I want. If you'd like to do anything about it, you might want to let Bulma know first if you want her prepared for pain."

Vejita didn't move, didn't alter his expression for what seemed the longest time to his children, who knew his temper. Finally he straightened from his intimidating posture. "Get the hell out of here," he said to Serive.

"Whatever you say," she consented, launching herself into the air. 

He turned to Trunks. "Go home."

"Alright," Trunks agreed and heaved himself up from the ground. He also took to the air, although rather slow and wobbly. He went in the same direction as Serive toward Capsule Corporation.

Bra moved to follow her brother, but her father grabbed her arm. 

"Do you want me to train you or not?" he said with an edge of frustration and anger.

Bra wasn't sure whether to be happy or worried. She'd wanted her father to train her so she could help out on the journey, and she'd thought it would take some time for her father to get over Serive's manipulation before he agreed to hone her abilities. She wasn't sure, though, if she wanted to learn when he was angry.

"I... I do." 

He let go of her arm. "I want you to at least be able to have accurate aim, good concentration, and effective blasts before we leave, so I'm going to have to be a bit more intense than I was with Trunks."

"Okay." Bra nodded. "I'm ready."

He nodded. "Let's get started."

"One thing, though, Otousan..."

"Yeah?"

"Don't go easy on me 'cause I'm your little girl."

Vejita smirked. "Don't worry."

_______________

As usual constructive criticism is appreciated, no matter what it is you don't like. I'm not one to accuse the honest for flaming (er... unless it actually IS flaming...) 

And for once I have a preview for the next chapter! *gasp* In chapter nine I take you to Wycan, the home Serive is doing whatever possible to save. Kouruji is doing what he can squash the rebellion against him before they figure out the source of his power. 


	10. Chapter Nine: Expectations of Traitors

Disclaimer: You know what? FINE! I own everything! I OWN IT ALL!!! MWA HAHAHAHAHA!

Author's Note: Well, thanks to the proddings of Vegeta Pet and her furious jabbings at me with her Spork of Doom, I've finished this chapter faster than usual. I think I did, anyway. O_o; Well, you know the drill: read, enjoy, and pllleeeaaaaasse review? =D? I'll luv ya forever! Or at least for a few moments.

Chapter Nine: The Expectations of Traitors

The once glowing city was dull and black. The burned buildings were falling apart, and the falls of dislodged boards and stones were the only sounds that disrupted the silence.

His own footsteps were the exception at the moment as his boots clunked on the abandoned stone path, stained charcoal from the descended ash of long ago. He passed through a gap in the towering walls that circled the castle. The gate that formerly blocked the walk lay in the dirt nearby.

He would have continued past them without a thought as usual, but the recent developments on his mind made him slow down. He stopped, arms relaxed at his sides, and stared at the intricate bars that had once helped guard the palace.

-------------------------

His high-necked uniform was pale gray and favored his pale complexion. The outfit was plain, but his features were enough to distinguish him: straight black hair was cut to just above his ear on his right, and the length angled downwards so that it reached below his chin on his left. Pupil-less red eyes were focused on the approaching group, surrounded by more guards.

First was the king, tall and proud, as many are. To the young man's irritation, the ruler did not even glance at him; he kept his eyes on the palace straight ahead.

Behind her father was the princess, beautiful as usual even with the pink scar slashed over her left eye. It had been brisk that day, and she'd chosen to wear a light hooded cloak that hid her body from view. Her face was enough for him, however, with her beautiful ivory skin framed by orange hair piled on her shoulders. Her lips smiled at him appreciatively from under the cowl, and when he looked into her brightly-colored eyes he could see the affection he drew from them.

But the man that followed brought him away from his infatuated thoughts. He was much taller than his companions, not to mention his unusual gray skin color. His eyes were also quite queer; the irises were white like his pupils, and it looked as if he should be blind. Long, straight, sleek black hair was tucked behind pointed ears. His green uniform was similar to the young man's in style, but it was trimmed in gold and epaulets were on each shoulder. He nodded to the young man by the gate.

"Relov," Kouruji acknowledged with a fanged grin.

"Welcome back," Relov said to all three with a bow. "I trust that the Western Province is well?"

"As always," was the king's cool reply. The three stopped at the open gate, as did the guards following behind them. The king looked to Kouruji. "Will you and your apprentice be joining me in the throne room while I receive the representatives?"

Kouruji glanced at Relov. "I am feeling a bit ill again, Highness. I think my time would be better served with another lesson for him instead."

The king snorted. "I'm sure he would learn more by doing, Kouruji. I do not want my daughter's advisor's head to be filled with all philosophy and no strategy." He gave the dark-skinned man a once over. "And did I not tell you to see my doctor?"

"I did, and, again, he could not find a cause for my fatigue." He bowed to his ruler. "Please forgive me, Majesty, but I must retire to my chambers. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better day for Relov to experience the problems brought up by the representatives."

The king turned back to his castle and waved a hand in dismissal. "Go ahead, Kouruji. I'm not one to strain the ailing." He set off towards the castle again, and some of the guards immediately followed him.

Serive glanced to her father and stepped towards Relov. "Let's talk again today in the field," she said softly so her father- as well as the remaining guards- could not hear. Her cloak parted and her ivory hand appeared. She squeezed his shoulder and smiled.

Relov wished he could kiss her just then, but the guards were watching. "As you wish, My Lady."

Her arm vanished beneath light blue fabric and she set down the path with more of the guards following her.

Relov closed the doors to Kouruji's chambers as his master sat back in a cushioned chair. The guards were stationed outside the room; the two were alone.

"A fire, please, Relov," Kouruji requested wearily.

Relov frowned, but waved his hand and the fireplace lit up. "You were able to start a fire yesterday," he commented.

Kouruji laughed dryly. "Barely," he muttered.

"Sir..." Relov sat in another chair across from the advisor. "Your power has decreased so much in the past month. Perhaps enacting this invocation is just as they say: impossible. If you die, all your effort will be worth nothing, and your vision will never come to pass."

The older man closed his eyes and shook his head. "It is all in the mind, my boy. My body may weaken, but as long as I can focus I will achieve my goal."

"But it's controlling your entire life!" Relov exclaimed. "I mean, the crude diet itself is near poisonous! And the drawings of blood and full days of meditation! I'm surprised that no one has gotten suspicious by now. No Wycanian has ever had an incurable condition; it's a weak defense for your behavior."

"I am trustworthy. That will hold off all suspicions for some time."

"I have to admit, Sir..." Relov looked away from his teacher. "While I appreciate your goals of peace and equality, and understand that they can only be achieved through war, I can hardly condone what the spell itself does..."

"Do you not trust me to use it responsibly?" The older man's eyes snapped upon to glare shame upon Relov.

"I do trust you!" Relov insisted pleadingly. "But isn't there a way to make him willing?"

"We have no time for negotiations. The portal is only open for a short time."

Relov bit his lip, but he nodded in understanding before continuing. "There is another thing..." he admitted. He was very used to opening himself up to his mentor. Kouruji seemed to seal up all the cracks in his thoughts and emotions; it was very comforting. "I feel... as if I should tell Serive. Perhaps she wouldn't misunderstand-"

Kouruji snarled. "Are you a fool? She is much too loyal to her father to listen to anything even you had to say." He relaxed and sat back in his chair. He reached down the neck of his uniform and pulled up the necklace hidden beneath his shirt. "Just follow the plan as I told you," he muttered, fingering the clear charm absently. "It won't be long now until the spell is effective enough to open the gateway."

Relov looked at the clear jewel and thought of its purpose. "You... you will release him when we win the battle, yes?"

The advisor gave his student a hard stare. "You have dedicated yourself to me for this long, and you doubt me now?"

Relov swallowed. "Forgive me..."

Kouruji looked back to the fireplace. "It's alright. It's to be understood that your anticipation of the drastic changes to come would jar your resolve, especially at your young age."

"I am not that young," Relov tried to defend himself. He did not like being treated like a child. Granted, most Wycanians lived to be around three hundred years old and he was only a decade short of Serive's half a century, but that did not make him a mere boy.

"You are young enough." Kouruji replied. "Just follow me and I will come through with my promises. You want an equal world, yes? A place where each person receives the same respect? A land with the fairest, sparest government that can deliver happiness with its decency? A land where the princess and a lowly apprentice can be wed?"

Relov nodded. He did want those things, but... "I fear that Serive will never understand."

"It will take time," his mentor assured him, "but I'm sure she will see the light."

-------------------------

Relov smiled bitterly at the memories of his last days as an apprentice. Now he served as Kouruji's lieutenant and assisted with breaking the rebellion that had formed after the assassination of the King. He could hardly wait until the new government was installed, but first the rebels had to be defeated and made to realize how much of a better life was waiting for them. It was taking such a long time, though; they would enter the sixth year of the war in a little over two months.

He set off again up the path to the charred palace. A set of towering doors was the castle's entrance, but one of the doors had come down long ago, and he merely walked over it. His thoughts went to his precious Serive. He knew she would have supported the goal of equality many years ago before the late Lord Freeza kidnapped her. But her time purging planets had altered her. When she finally escaped and returned home, Serive had eagerly embraced all that was familiar, and her negative attitude towards change was soon obvious. Even their love could not make her stand up to the old ways.

_"I must wed one who is brought up refined and wealthy, one who is diplomatic and military, one who would be the perfect king for Wycan. You are not all these things, Relov."_

"I will change for you. I will study all those things and-"

Her fingers pressed up against his lips and silenced him. "I do not want you to change. Besides, you would never be able to be all that a king should be, such as military. You hate war, Relov."

"I would go to war for you, Serive."

"But you hate it, and I would hate for you to be responsible for something you despise."

"So you just want to throw this all away?" His eyes burned. 

"I do not want to. I have to, for all our people. As future queen, I have obligations-"

"Love should be above obligations."

"It is above them, but it cannot conquer them."

"I will change if I have to. I will become the most bloodthirsty soldier-"

Her eyes were angry. "I do not want to you change," she repeated. "Besides, Father would never accept you as the future king. He finds you too soft, too young-"

"I am not much younger than you!"

"It is one of his excuses. But his dislike for you does not cancel the fact that your station is too low to ascend to a ruler."

"Your father is... is... enraging," he finally muttered. He did not want to say what he really meant, for fear of insulting her.

She chuckled. "He is still my father and the king, and his word is my law." Her sympathy changed to sadness as she looked at his frown. "And my burden."

"If you had not gone away... you would think differently."

She looked away, and her eyes were hard. "Well, I did 'go away.' And..." She swallowed. "And I think it actually did me good. It made me appreciate my life here."

"It made you fear any alteration in your life!" he snapped, frustrated with her stationary thinking.

She glared at him, and her affection was replaced with ice. "Maybe it has!" she snarled. "I would rather keep things the way they are here- safe and stable- then risk alienating my own father and king for selfishness." She turned her back to him. "Perhaps some time with Freeza would make you understand better," she said coldly.

He bit his lip for being so harsh with her and bringing back memories. "I'm sorry-"

She walked away before he could finish his apology.

They had easily made up later, but not much had changed since that conversation. After the fall of the Capital, Serive battled to keep the goverment Wycan had developed hundreds of years ago, while he fought for changes to make life better for all the planet's people. He still despised war. He hated the horrid battles, the bitter smell of blood, the sense of death. But he had not lied to Serive; he had sustained all the horrors for her, and soon she would see that change was okay if it destroyed barriers between love.

Relov passed through the front hall and marched to the far, scorched doors. He pushed them open and approached the throne at the head of the room. He ignored the corpse sprawled near the dias; he was used to ignoring its existence. He bowed to his lord and said, "I bring word from the military base in the Eastern Province."

"Ah, yes." Kouruji nodded. "How was your travel, my friend?"

"Very good, Sir."

"What is the news you bring?"

Relov frowned as he spoke. "The troops finally discovered the rebel hideout in the Yeahidwa Mountains, but they must have been seen crossing the Poen Pass the day before because a majority of the rebels were gone when they entered. All but three of those remaining were captured and taken back to the base along with all supplies and other articles that were discovered."

"Anything useful found?"

The young man's scowl deepened. "A trunk with many of Princess Serive's belongings was found. She was not among those captured or seen fleeing when our military invaded the rebel headquarters, and it is odd that she would have left such personal things behind if she'd gone ahead with the missing rebels."

"Hmmm..." Kouruji leaned forward in his chair. "That is interesting. Did you get any information from the prisoners?"

"Yes, the Information Accumulation groups were able to... eh... _coax_... an explanation out of one of the weaker agitators." Relov winced, recalling the screams of the unfortunate rebel.

"Do tell." His elbows rested on the arms of his chair and grey hands formed a steeple beneath his chin.

"He said that the former queen had a vision after the battle in the Eastern Plains. The princess was sent in a space pod to seek the aid of..." Relov hesitated to finish.

"... Yes?" Kouruji pressed.

Relov felt almost embarrassed saying it. "A... a Saiyajin, Sir."

Kouruji chuckled. "A Saiyajin?"

"I know there is great insistence that they are extinct, Sir," Relov said hurriedly, "but there is also rumors that some still-"

"I'm aware of the gossip," Kouruji interrupted him. "I only find it difficult to believe that Serive went in search of one of very few Saiyajins in an entire universe."

"The Queen was very specific. She said he would be on a place called Earth."

Kouruji laughed. "Thus is the flaw in the queen's abilities. They say that a Saiyajin killed two of the Kold family on Earth. And then there is also the three Saiyajins Serive met while she was serving Lord Freeza. The Queen likely unknowingly drew from her subconscious that her daughter had before encountered warriors of unbelievable strength and that one of those warriors killed two of the most feared tyrants in the history of existence on a place called Earth."

"So you believe that the precognition was only an illusion of hope?"

"It's a possibility." Kouruji's amusement and arrogance faded. "But I do not deny that her dream could have been true." His eyes flickered strangely. "It would be quite unfortunate if Serive brought back a Saiyajin to challenge me. The limits of their strength... Well, there aren't any limits."

Relov raised an eyebrow in confusion. "How could you know that?"

The dark man glared at his subordinate. "Are you questioning my knowledge?"

Relov gulped and averted his eyes. "Forgive me."

"Do you have proof that this story is true at all? Are you sure it is not a clever ruse to get some of our army to leave the planet in search of her?"

"Very sure. The rebel was broken quite well, to tears, in fact. And upon returning to the former rebel site we discovered a crude pod-launching mechanism."

"Hmm.." Kouruji was thoughtful.

"What are we going to do?" Relov pressed.

White eyes dropped to gaze at the floor. "There isn't much we can do besides proceed with dissolution of the rebellion. We will just have to wait and see what Serive brings us from her trek."

Relov nodded. "She has always been determined. If there is a Saiyajin out there, she will find him."

Kouruji did not respond to his comment. He was used to his lieutenant's fond comments of the princess. "Well, I have no further orders for you now, other than to destroy Serive's trunk. It is useless to us."

Relov hesitated. "Sir, I wondered if I might... um..." His face was tinged pink.

Kouruji snorted at the younger's obvious request. "So you think she'll immediately return to you if she knows you saved a bunch of her sentimental articles?" He couldn't help his anger at the man. Relov always seemed to be thinking of that insufferable woman. "If you'd like, you may keep the damn trunk," Kouruji snapped with a wave of dismissal.

The red-eyed Wycanian couldn't hold back his smile, but he noticed his lord's agitation. He quickly said his thanks before bowing, then hurried off.

_The boy is always so eager to carry out my orders_, the dark man remarked to himself as he watched Relov disappear through the front hall doors. With a wave of Kouruji's hand, the doors to the chamber slammed shut. With a second gesture there was a long, creaking noise behind his throne. He stood and moved around his seat to the open door hidden behind it. He entered the concealed room, closing the door with another hand movement.

Kouruji's cruel eyes glittered as he looked upon his greatest achievement. A round platform rose from the center of the square room, and from the stage stretched a great white pillar. It was not strange to the incorrigible man that the cylinder had no top; it just faded away some short distance from the ceiling perched upon towering walls. 

The dictator fingered the crystal that hung from a chain around his neck. Within the jewel swirled a strange iridescence. He held a claw out towards the round column, but did not make contact with it. He could feel his prisoner inside, and he grinned at the despair that radiated with the energy.

The immeasurable, unimaginable energy.

He had indeed been as innocent and naive as lore had it- Kouruji could feel those things right now, and had he focused on them for too long, he was sure he would have become ill. The being had great instincts, though, which had nearly caused a problem in apprehending him.

Nearly.

Kouruji closed his eyes, reveling in how the limitless power within the pillar pumped through his body like electricity. He never would have imagined having such energy, and he probably wouldn't be experiencing it now without the help of Serive.

_"Honestly, Kouruji, some of these spells and incantations are dangerous! Look here. I'm sure you've heard of the _Gni Dri'an_."_

"I believe it is one of the banned spells, My Lady. Are you sure you want me to read it?"

"Oh, Kouruji! You're the advisor. We trust you. Anyway, the Gni Dri'an_ fully details how to imprison a soul in order to gain ultimate power! Granted, the task is near impossible due to the great stress it puts upon the enchanter, but to let such plots exist! They endanger our very government!"_

"I do see your point, Princess. If you would like, I will hold onto such texts for now and speak to your father about perhaps destroying them."

"Very good. At least they'll be in the hands of someone trustworthy."

The advisor turned dictator grinned as he remembered the expression on the princess' face when she discovered his treachery in the form of her father's dead body. How horribly foolish, how blindly trusting, how unbelievably stupid she must have felt.

He only wished he'd seen her face when she'd realized whom Relov's loyalty went to. Guiding the man in the proper direction was all too easy; he was dissatisfied with Wycan's monarchy, especially in matters such as class. He had been heartbroken when Serive was betrothed to some aristocrat from the South. When Kouruji promised him that there was a way to build the perfect world where his relationship with the princess would not end as an affair, it had not taken long for the student to offer his services.

Unfortunately, as much as Kouruji appreciated the young man's loyalty and company, Relov would be killed at the first moment he realized his own foolishness. The dark man was surprised that Relov had kept his faith in him for this long, but soon he would probably come around and realize that after the war there would be anything but equality. Did the man really expect Kouruji to throw away the power he had acquired with his army? Did he really believe that all the enemy prisoners who had not pledged loyalty to his reign were still alive?

Ah, the convenience that came from the ignorance which stemmed from hope...

But it was better to have an unknowing accomplice. It left no chance for anyone to discover more about the Gni Dri'an, such as that after one year the imprisoned being's energy was completely absorbed by the spell's conjurer. This, of course, destroyed the prisoner. So each year Kouruji was forced into another bought of meditations, rituals, and strange diets in order to acquire another pawn. Luckily it took only a few days of such to get another soul instead of two months like with the initial incantation. He had not even felt any fatigue for this most recent capture; with each recitation he became stronger and stronger.

Kouruji's thoughts went to Serive's journey and he frowned. It would be very unfortunate if she found a Saiyajin and brought him back here. The Saiyajins had always been known for acquiring great strength in addition to being vicious in battle, and he would rather not fight one and discover that he was the weaker. Of course, with the power he'd gained thanks to the Gni Dri'an, it was very unlikely that any creature could surpass him. 

One thing was for sure.

When Serive returned, he'd be waiting.

__________________________________________________

Damn, the closest mention of a DBZ character was just the word "Saiyajin." O_o So I guess my disclaimer ain't far off.

Please take the time to review... Or I'll melt into a puddle of goo! I mean it! I'll do it! O_O


	11. Chapter Ten: Unknowing Stowaway

Disclaimer: I don't own nothin', buddy. =P

Author's Note: Eh... so... here's chapter ten, the longest chap yet, I believe. Hope you like it. lol

Chapter Ten: Unknowing Stowaway

Marron inhaled the sweet scent of the roses that bloomed in the full green bushes. She sighed. She had always agreed with the consensus that roses were a symbol of love and romance. Her life had certainly held those things for the last two years, and she knew she was fortunate. She knew many women who could never find the right man; some searched to the point that they fell into the habit of having constant one-night stands, and others had given up entirely. Marron didn't know what she would do without Trunks.

Hell, she didn't know what she would do while he was away...

After it was apparent that Vejita and Bulma would be accompanying Serive whether they liked it or not, there was a discussion on who would be staying and who else would be going. Bra would obviously come along on Serive's urging, and Trunks declared that he wouldn't stay behind when his family needed him. Of course, everyone else wanted to help, but the ship could only support a crew of eight. Goten didn't want to abandon his best friend, so he was added to the passenger list. Gohan was also going along because of his concern for the Briefs family. Despite the willingness to help, the last slot was left vacant, for Serive was content for the assistance of all those with Saiyajin blood, not to mention that no one wanted to room with the unpredictable Wycanian princess.

Marron had many concerns about Trunks going off into space again, and she was glad that he agreed to talk to her that morning before breakfast. She would have liked to talk to him the night before in his room, but he'd wound up staying in the lab all night helping his mother with some last-minute ship alteration. The blonde woman picked one of the roses from the plot and inhaled its scent. The last thing she wanted was Trunks to get hurt or stranded, or- even worse- die. She knew Trunks had to protect his family, but Marron needed some sort of confidence that he would return from this trip.

She heard a door close not far off. She looked up from the blossom and saw Trunks coming towards her from the back of the house. She smiled a bit at how tired he looked with his half-closed eyes and mussed lavender hair. He still wore the Capsule Corporations jumpsuit he'd changed into before helping his mother do interior repairs on the ship. It was stained and torn and a wrench was stuck into one of the pockets.

"Good morning," she said with some amusement.

"Eh, yeah, very good," he said, looking up at the sky and squinting. "Ah, yes, natural light... I had almost forgotten."

She laughed. "Well, I hope you didn't forget me." She pressed up against him and kissed him.

Trunks grinned when they parted. "I dunno. Maybe you should stir my memory."

Marron smirked. "Maybe later, Casanova." She tucked the rose into his breast pocket. "This time is for talking."

"Well, I need to talk to you about something important." Trunks fidgeted a bit with one hand rubbing the back of his neck and the other in his pocket.

"Okay," Marron replied. She sat down on the ledge surrounding the plot of roses and he sat next to her. "You can go first then."

Trunks blushed a bit at the ground, then forced himself to look up to his girlfriend's face. "Well, we've been dating for over a year and a half now, Marron. I've gotten to know you so much more than I did when we were only kids, and now I can't even comprehend my life without you there. I've never felt this way about any other girl I've ever known."

Marron thought she was going to cry. "I love you too," she choked out, her eyes shimmering as she squeezed his hand in hers.

Trunks looked down at their entwined fingers then back up at her and smiled. "See, that's the only thing wrong with this. We've been at this stage for too long, and after what's happened, I've been thinking a lot about how much I love you and wondering why we haven't taken things to the next level."

"You haven't been talking to Goten, have you?" Marron said quickly, raising an eyebrow.

Trunks gave her the same expression. "About what?"

She grinned. "Nevermind. Keep going."

He laughed lightly and continued. "So, anyway, I suppose I'm in the wrong position for this..." He got up and stood before her. Then he sunk down onto one knee, but he never looked away from Marron's face or let go of her hand.

She felt like her heart was just going to stop right there. It was already beating so fast that she didn't understand how it didn't burst from the strain.

Keeping one hand joined with both of hers, Trunks reached into his pocket and pulled out a red velvet box. He flipped it open with his thumb and a beautiful diamond shone in the sunlight. But Marron could only look at Trunks' eager face as she felt the tears glide over her cheeks.

"Marron..." He cleared his voice. "Marron, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" she screamed and fell on her knees. Her arms snapped around him and she covered his mouth with hers. 

They parted and Trunks laughed. "I hope you can stand the paparazzi."

"I'll get through anything as long as you're there," Marron replied, giving him another tight embrace. She got up and pulled her future husband to his feet. Already her qualms about his voyage were forgotten. "Let's go tell everyone!" she exclaimed and dragging him towards the house.

After so much time of altering the ship with Serive's guidelines, Bulma must have felt that a speedy launch preparation was necessary. Besides announcing in the middle of the night that they would definitely be ready to go by the afternoon, she had created machines that instantly sealed crates once the lids were placed on them. It was likely, though, that it was Serive who had encouraged the rush, thought Trunks as he placed the lid onto a box of canned food. A mechanism near by reached out its arm, and the tool on the end twisted screws into the perimeter of the lid.

Trunks took a moment to look over the ship his mother had worked on for Serive. She had told him that this particular craft was a smaller version of a ship belonging to an alien called King Kold, the parent of his father's former employer. She'd wanted to install the superior technology into one of Capsule Corporation's traditional sphere crafts, but it would have been too large, even though she cut out one of the two levels and halved the diameter. The flatter disc-like shape was more practical. She'd also used the retractable landing gear that made the ship resemble a five-legged spider. Bulma had added her own color scheme, though, with a large black Capsule Corporations logo on the top center of the roof and two blue stripes circling the outside. Painted on the front of the ship's underside was the acronym for Mechanical Aeronautical Retribution Craft: MARC.

"And with what I've heard of Freeza's reputation," Bulma had mentioned to him while making the necessary alterations to the control panel, "having a similar ship to his family's might help drive away unwanted characters." 

That sounded good to Trunks. He was hoping to have the least amount of confrontations as possible, though he knew that Serive wanted them to assist in her planet's war. If her enemies were stronger than she, Trunks had many doubts that they would all come back to Earth unharmed. The last thing he wanted was to die without marrying Marron.

Trunks smiled, remembering everyone's reactions at breakfast. After their meeting in the garden, he and Marron had trotted into the kitchen and made their announcement. Of course, everyone was thrilled, even the bride's parent's, though Krillin had taken Trunks aside later and asked to talk to him about the subject when the younger man got back from Wycan. Trunks' father's reaction was surprising. The prince had been standing behind his son in the doorway when Marron excitedly blurted out their engagement. As everyone cheered after the blonde's announcement, Vejita had said quietly to him, "About time..."

Not that Trunks had thought that his father would be angry or upset. It was just that his usual reaction to everything all others found surprising and exciting was impassive silence. Even two words conveyed to Trunks that his father approved of the match, and it just made him happy.

With a clipboard in hand, Trunks turned from the craft to his future in-laws. "It should take about two months for us to get there," Trunks reviewed with Eighteen and Krillin. "You guys are free to hang around. If anyone calls, just tell them that we're away and you're watching the house." He took a piece of paper from his clipboard and held it out to the former monk. "Here's some excuses you can use for anyone who gives you grief about our absence."

"You sure you don't want us to come along?" Krillin asked, taking the paper.

Trunks shook his head. "Nah, we'll be okay. Besides, there's no more room, unless someone wants to stay in the same quarters as Serive." Trunks pulled the lid off a nearby crate as he talked and reached into it. "It'll just be the seven of us." He emphasized the last statement when he pulled Pan out of the crate.

Pan grinned sheepishly. "Just, uh, checking the quality of the cargo," she insisted. She snatched a gallon of water from the crate and pretended to inspect it closely. "Looks good; not too many microbes..."

Trunks groaned and set the girl down. He looked to Krillin and his wife. "Please leave us for a moment?"

Krillin laughed. "Sure." He and Eighteen walked over to Goten to help him load cargo.

Trunks glared at his friend's niece disapprovingly. "Damn it, Pan. When we say you can't go, we mean it! And it's not going to be like last time! We'll be searching for your energy before we take off."

"This is ridiculous!" Pan snapped. "Bra gets to go, and I'm twice as strong as she is!"

"That's only because Serive wants to piss off my otousan."

"Trunks, this is totally not fair!" the short girl exclaimed. "I know things didn't always go as planned the last time we were in space, but I was a great help, wasn't I? I have experience in this! Bra has only been training for the last week!"

"Look, Pan." Trunks returned to his clipboard. "You tagged along last time because you thought no one took you seriously. Well, guess what? Even after all that crap we went through, still nobody does."

Pan sweatdropped. "Eh?"

"Every time things don't go your way, you pitch a fit like a baby. If you want to be a grown-up, start acting like one!"

Pan scowled. "I do not act like a baby!"

"You're almost as bad as Bra."

"I am not! Trunks -"

Trunks' eyes flew back to the girl. "Pan, I don't have time for this now! Things have been stressful as it is, and you don't have to make things worse! Could you please just do me a favor and go inside the house?"

Pan clenched her teeth, but managed to force out an angry grunt before she turned and marched away. She stomped under the ship towards the door across the room. This side of the ship was deserted, and Pan took the opportunity to rattle off curses and make wild, violent gestures in the air to vent her frustration.

It just seem that no matter what she did, no one ever trusted her or gave her responsibilities. That's why she'd performed her little stowaway stunt two years ago. She figured that she'd prove that she could handle any problem at all, and despite her actions she had done well at that. But the only thing she'd gotten in return was a long lecture and a training schedule with her father. Sure, that was something, but everyone thought that she was just a kid more than ever. And now she couldn't even attempt to prove them wrong again. 

Well, getting pissed off wasn't going to get her anywhere. Pan stopped her shadowboxing and took a deep breath. "I'm fine. I'm cool," she muttered to herself.

*DING DONG* The doorbell echoed the vast launching bay.

"Could you get that, please, Pan?" Trunks' voice called to her.

"Alright!" she yelled back, then grumbled to herself. "Sure, Trunks, whatever you say. Stupid jerk." She took a step to the doorway, then gracefully tripped over a box that had been in her path. Pan's face hit the floor, and she gritted her teeth in pain and growled to herself.

*DING DONG*

"Pan?" Trunks voice hollered again with agitation.

Pan tried to rub away the pain in her nose. "Okay!" she answered.

*DING DING DING DING DING DING-*

"PAN!!!"

"I SAID I'M GETTING IT!" Pan angrily launched herself to her feet, grabbed the crate that had tripped her and launched it behind her without looking. She ran off to answer the door and didn't notice the rocketing box smash into one of the spider legs of the spacecraft. The noise went unnoticed with the never ceasing doorbell, and since the exterior of the ship had been checked not long before, no one saw the substantial dent in that part of the landing gear.

*DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING-*

"I'm coming, damn it!" Pan hollered over the perpetual chiming. She swore that she would throttle the person once she saw their face. 

The door, however, flew upon before Pan could even reach for the knob, not to mention that it nearly smacked her in the face. On the front step stood a distraught Paresu.

"Where is he going?" the brunette demanded.

Pan's anger easily vanished when she saw it was only Paresu, but she was confused by the model's distress. "Who? Uncle Goten?"

Paresu walked inside and closed the door before turning back to her boyfriend's niece. "He left a message at the front desk. Said he was going somewhere and he hoped I would talk to him after he came back. Where is he going?"

"Um... away?"

Paresu glared at Pan and moved past her. "If you won't tell me, I'll ask him!" She didn't get very far, as Goten himself entered the living room. "Oh, Goten-kun!" she cried out. "Don't go away! I'm so sorry!" She threw her arms around him. "I mean, I'm still mad at you, but I never want you to leave! I can't live without you! I-"

Goten sweatdropped. "I did say I was coming back, Paresu." He returned her tight embrace. "And I'm not leaving because of you."

"Then where are you going?" Paresu asked, looking into his eyes desperately.

"Um.... I can't tell you."

Paresu almost fell over. "Goten!" she yelled. "I come over here worried sick because you leave some message about how you're going away and you don't know when you'll be back, and now you won't even tell me anything about your trip??"

"Um..." Goten stared at her blankly.

"What do you want from me, Goten??" Paresu screamed exasperatedly. 

Goten winced. "Okay, okay, just go to our room and wait for me. I have some things to do. When I'm done I'll tell you everything."

Paresu frowned, but she nodded. "Alright, Goten, but I'm holding you to that."

"I'll keep that promise," he assured her as she set off up the stairs. When her footsteps faded away, he turned to his niece. "Okay, Pan, your job is to keep her in that room until we leave."

Pan sweatdropped. "What? But you just said-"

"My 'things to do' is everything involving helping Serive save her planet. Once we're all done and we get back, then I'll tell Paresu everything." Goten chuckled nervously. "It's not a lie, see?"

The dark-haired girl rolled her eyes. "Why don't you just tell her now??"

"Because we're leaving now!" Goten exclaimed. "I can't just tell her everything and just go off into space! I want to tell her when I know I'll be around to answer her concerns and remind her that there's more to me than alien DNA." Goten put a hand on Pan's shoulder. "Please, Pan, do this for me?"

Pan glanced from his hand to Goten's pleading puppy-dog expression. She huffed. "Oh, alright, Uncle Goten," she muttered.

"Thanks!" He smiled at her before running back off towards to launching area.

Pan made her way upstairs. "At least he trusts me," she grumbled.

Paresu paced the room in frustration. It'd been fifteen minutes, and Goten had obviously been lying again. She opened the door to go look for him, but to her surprise, Pan was standing across the hall.

"Hello," she said in a bored tone. "I regret to inform you that my uncle would prefer that you stay here for, oh, about the next hour."

Paresu snorted and defiantly took a step to leave her room, but Pan walked a bit forward with her arms folded and an expression of determination. Paresu frowned. Pan was younger than she, but she knew that Pan's family had great fighting skills. It would seem that she would not be leaving the room. The brunette huffed and slammed the door in annoyance. She plopped onto the bed and folded her arms. She hadn't come all the way back here just to be isolated in this room. She'd returned to find out once and for all what was going on, and she was going to do that no matter what.

The first step, however, was figuring out how to get past her guard.

"Watch as the amazingly skilled fighter babysits her uncle's ditzy girlfriend," Pan narrated to herself. She'd become so bored that she began acting out to her statements. "She senses her captive's ki to ensure that there has been no other mode of escape." She stared at the door and concentrated. Surely enough, Paresu's energy was still inside. "She stays prepared in the unlikely event that the prisoner will try to force her way out." She fell back into her fighting stance and looked warily at the door. "She searches the hall, to be sure that no expert ninja fighters are on their way to rescue the woman," Pan continued, looking from side to side. "She-"

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" a shriek erupted from behind the door.

The girl started at the noise and nearly toppled over. "She races inside to be sure that she hasn't let the hostage die," she said to herself as she opened the door. Pan burst into the room to see Paresu standing on the bed. "What? WHAT?" she asked over the screams.

"A mouse!" Paresu yelled, pointing at the floor. "A mouse! MOUSE! Amouseamouseamouseamouse-"

"Huh? Where?" Pan searched the carpet. "I don't see anything."

Paresu visibly shuddered. "Ew, God, it must be under the bed!"

Pan rolled her eyes. "You are such a... girl."

"Just get rid of it!"

"Fine, fine. I'll kill it," Pan told her as she bent down to look under the bed.

"You don't have to kill it, just get it outside!" Paresu said, hopping off the bed. She moved beside the bathroom and tensely watched as Pan searched for the rodent.

Pan frowned and moved to the closet. "Are you sure you saw a mouse?" she asked. "I don't see anything." She moved a few pairs of shoes aside and felt around the dark corners of the closet. She stood and turned back to the model. "Maybe it was just a shadow or some... thing..."

Paresu was gone. 

Pan sighed. "Clever girl," she muttered.

Paresu just didn't understand why Goten had been so insistent on keeping her in their room. Everyone had to be so secretive around her, and they'd become even more so ever since that woman from Greenland showed up. It truly hurt that Goten was keeping things from her after two years. What could it be that he and his family and friends didn't think she'd understand?

She lurked through the dim, empty halls. She wasn't too surprised that everyone seemed to have vanished; from Goten's even more covert behavior, she suspected that they were all gathered together somewhere and doing something involving the secret. The thought made Paresu all the more determined to discover what everyone was so resolved on keeping from her. 

Hopefully she wouldn't get lost in this winding, dome mansion on her way to Bulma's laboratories.

"She's gone??" Goten yelled.

"She tricked me!"

"She tricked you? How?" Goten asked out of curiosity.

"It doesn't matter," Pan grumbled. "I've tried sensing her, but when I follow her energy signature I just keep getting lost in the halls."

Goten gestured for Pan to leave the launching area. "Just keep looking. At least make sure she doesn't get over here."

Trunks came over as Pan ran off down the long corridor that connected the lab in the house to the ship area. "Relax, Goten. Pan's been in my house more than Paresu. If she's getting lost, what are the chances of Paresu finding her way here?"

"I guess you're right," Goten agreed, walking with his friend back to the rear of the ship to help Gohan load supply crates into the lower deck. "Hey, where's your 'Tousan?"

"Where do you think?" was Trunks' reply as he lifted three crates and flew through the loading hatch. He paused at the opening to look back at Goten. "There's no way he'll ever leave Okaasan's side as long as Serive is in control."

"Everything checks out," Bulma declared as her fingers tapped a couple more keys on the massive control panel before the windshield. "We can take off in ten minutes."

"Good. The sooner, the better," was Serive's anxious reply. "I'll check up on the cargo." As she left the room, she passed Blulma, who reflexively looked down at her hands pressed against the control board's cool metal.

Bulma could not bring up the nerve to look in the pale woman's eyes. The power, the confidence, the knowledge that Bulma's life was in her blood-painted nails left Serive with a superior air that made Bulma feel completely helpless and inferior.

When Serive's footsteps were nothing but a faint, distant clipping, Vejita grabbed Bulma's upper arm. She looked up at her husband and was puzzled by the glare he gave her.

"You are the mate of the Saiyajin no Ouji," he said, leaning towards her. "It doesn't matter if she can kill you with one thought; you look down to no one."

Bulma smiled slightly at his words, then kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Vejita," she whispered.

"Oh..." Bra, sitting in a chair on the other side of the room with a clipboard on her lap, wiped away imaginary tears. "That was just... so..." Choked sob. "...romantic..." A squeak with a wave of her hand. "I'm so vaclemped... Tahlk amongst yahselves..."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "I hardly think this is the time for humor."

"Weren't you the one always preaching optimism to me?"

"Yes, well, at the moment just forget everything I told you."

"Oh... So I _can_ shave my head, get a tattoo, and join a animal-sacrificing cult?"

"Bra..."

"Just kidding." Bra studied the clipboard. "You know, 'Kaasan, I am capable of doing more than checking the checklist."

"I know, there just aren't many duties to go around. Is there anything left, by the way?"

"We just have to finish loading supplies and we're on our way."

Pan was going crazy. She would feel Paresu's small ki practically right beside her, and when she turned the corner she would either encounter a dead end or a room with no other outlets.

_Who would build a maze for a building?_ Pan thought in her frustration. So much for proving that she was responsible. She couldn't even keep a weak woman in a room for more than twenty minutes.

Another corner, and another dead end. Pan withheld her urge to just blast her way out of the labyrinth and did her best to make what little patience she had last a little longer. It was doubtful that Bulma would appreciate a great portion of her home being blasted to nothing. She sought out Paresu's energy signature again and gasped when she realized where she was.

"The lab," Pan stated, before breaking into a sprint to find the model before the brunette came upon the ship.

Marron's brain told her to let Trunks go, but her heart was keeping her arms latched around him. "You better come back, you bastard," she sniffled. A fine trick he'd played on her, though it was unintentional. Proposing and going off into space to some hostile planet all in one day. She looked over at Goten. "You make sure he's okay, you hear me, Goten?"

"Eh, Trunks is better at taking care of me than I am at taking care of him," Goten replied regrettably. 

"Well, if you don't want me to kill you, you'll do your best," she replied somberly. Marron forced her arms to release her fiancé, but she couldn't look at him. "I'll go to the launching room now," she announced tightly before running off.

"Alright, now that the good-byes are finally done," Serive sneered, "let's get a move on. Wycan doesn't have all century, you know."

"Can't I say goodbye to Paresu first?" Goten asked, looking to Trunks.

"No," Serive said simply. "I've already been away from home for far too long. A few more minutes could mean my entire world."

"But-"

"Get your ass on the ship!" Serive snapped.

"Okay, okay!" Goten folded his arms and glared at her.

As they filed onto the ship, Trunks looked up to a glass partition about halfway up the wall. A room lay behind it, as did all their friends who watched and waited to assist in the lift off. Yamcha raised his hand in farewell, while Tien only nodded with a frown. Chaozu only observed them, but his eyes were said. Chi-Chi, sniffling and occasionally blowing her nose into a handkerchief, was press up against the glass, and Videl stood beside her with a hand on her mother-in-law's shoulder and sad eyes on the ship. Krillin sat at a control panel, ready to receive Bulma's directions, and Eighteen stood behind him with her arms folded. She looked so cold and uncaring until a crying Marron came through the doorway. Then the mother embraced her daughter and displayed nothing but sympathy.

Paresu peeked through a doorway at the end of a long hall and saw Goten enter a huge craft of some sort. When all others had joined him inside, the brunette cautiously entered the massive room to look upon the strange creation of metals, bolts, hinges, and such. She'd heard that Capsule Corporations had a space travel program, but why would her Goten be on one of the ships with all the others?

A ship... Paresu frowned, remembering how the white-skinned woman had demanded a ship from Bulma. She had thought it likely that she meant a boat, but here everyone was on this spacecraft. Were they trying to sell their products to the Greenland company and giving Serive a tour? But Goten didn't know anything about spaceships, so why was he in there? And if he was just tagging along, why couldn't she be there? What was so confidential to Capsule Corporation that Goten was allowed to know but she couldn't?

She peered at the wall beyond the ship. There was something there, but she couldn't see. She tiptoed into the room and craned her neck. After a few paces she saw a room beyond a large pane of glass. Krillin was speaking into a microphone sticking out of a panel, but she didn't hear any sound over the speakers. He must've been communicating with the ship. 

Paresu moved more behind the ship so that no one would see her. She was at a loss for what to do next, though. She wanted to march onto the ship and yell at Goten for trying to keep her prisoner in their guestroom, but she knew she wasn't supposed to be there. For all she knew, there could be a good reason to keep her away, not to mention that if she started an argument in front of Bulma's business associate, Paresu might screw up a big deal.

The model decided to return to her room and wait for Goten, when she heard a strange sound, like a vacuum being switched on. But she didn't feel any kind of suction; if anything, there was a low, warm breeze, and it was coming from underneath the ship. The air flow and heat increased, and it finally dawned on her that the ship was powering up.

There was an enormous flash of blue light, and a abrupt blast of hot air whipped Paresu back several feet. She cried out beneath the roar of the engine as she flew back towards some crates by the wall, but she lost her breath as her body crashed into an open crate. Her eyes fluttered closed even as the wooden box slid back into a stack of more, and a lid slid from the top of the pile and smacked perfectly onto the long box. The drilling mechanism automatically whirred its arm over as the piled empty crates fell. Screws were drilled into the first two corners, then another set a third of the length down. The machine buzzed as it discovered that it was out of screws, and as the arm retracted to replenish them, one of the crates hit the plug and jarred it from the socket. The mechanism ceased its function, Paresu was concealed, and by the time the ship's engines turned off and the light faded all the clattering was silent.

"Sorry, Krillin," Bulma apologized over her intercom. She gave him a wave from behind the windshield. "It's just that Bra forgot her own luggage." She turned and glared at her daughter.

Bra smiled sheepishly. "I forgot to put it with the rest of the stuff to go on board. I left it all by the unused crates."

Trunks grabbed Goten's arm. "We'll get it, 'Kaasan." 

The two left the control room. Serive followed to make sure they didn't dally, but remained by the stairs that lowered from the ship as the two ran around to the other side of the ship. They saw several bags by a fallen pile of crates. Trunks groaned, as although many things were needed for the length of the trip, his sister still must've packed twice as much.

"That girl is ridiculous," Trunks grumbled as the cargo bay hatch slid open. He began grabbing to bags at a time and transferring them into the hold.

"Eh, she's a girl. Probably brought clothes for every occasion, even for the chance that she might meet some hot alien guy," Goten snickered as he joined in on the process.

"That's disturbing, Goten." Trunks shook his head. "Not to mention that 'Tousan would kill any 'hot alien guy' who tried anything."

Goten smiled at such predictable behavior. He reached for another bag, but stopped when he noticed a sealed crate. "Hey, what's this?"

Trunks stopped with a couple more satchels in his arms. "Eh?" He looked at the box. "Oh, we must've missed one."

Goten frowned. "It's not labeled, and it's not even closed all the way. Are you sure it's for us?"

"What else would it be?" Trunks flew up to the hatch and tossed to two small bags in. 

"Maybe we should open it first."

"WILL YOU TWO STOP YOUR YAPPING AND MOVE IT??" shouted an irritated Serive. 

Trunks sneered and rolled his eyes. "Just put in on the ship. Be careful in case it's computer equipment or something else delicate."

Pan raced around the halls madly. This could not be happening. Not only had she lost Paresu, but she could sense that the girl was in the launching area. And not only was she in that area, but she was on the ship with the others! Pan scrambled through the twisting and turning hallways, searching for any familiar mark that would lead her to the site. At the same time, her mind scrambled for a reason why Paresu would be on the ship in the first place. Why did they let her on? Why was she going along? Something was very wrong, and Pan was relieved when she finally found a sign that pointed her in the direction of the launching pad. She took a few more turns and finally came upon the long hall leading from the main building to the ship area.

Looking down the tunnel, she could see the heat waves coming from underneath the ship. The countdown echoed through the passage and told her that she had one second to get to the ship. Using her energy, she launched herself all the way through the hall and stopped in front of the spacecraft as it left the ground.  


"Hey, is that Pan?" Bulma asked, peering through the glass as the ship rose into the air. The dark-haired girl was jumping up and down, waving her hands about, and yelling something.

Trunks rolled his eyes. "She's probably still pissed of about not being able to tag along."

Pan had stopped leaping about and was now cupping her hands in front of her mouth to scream something at them.

Trunks sweatdropped. "Talk about being desperate. As if we can hear her."

Bulma shrugged. "Well, she'll just have to yell at us later." She spoke into the microphone sticking out from the board before her. "Initiating air propulsion to take us into space. Three.. two.. one." She slapped a button, and all were suddenly thrown into their seats. 

The spacecraft launched itself through the hole in the ceiling, through the sky, struggled through the atmosphere, and five minutes after take-off, MARC was flying through space and on its way to Wycan.

Darkness. That's all she could see when her eyes flickered open. Pain jot through her back and in her head, and for a moment she couldn't recall what had happened. But slowly she recalled the ship in the lab, and hiding from everyone, and the ship powering up...

Paresu pressed her hands up and felt wooden slats. She realized that she was in a crate, as she faintly recalling having flown into one, though she didn't remember it being closed. She reached up with her small hands and tried to push the lid off, but her to her confusion it was stuck tight. She used all her strength, yet it didn't budge, and she began to panic. She was trapped; she barely had room to move. It was a long box she'd fallen into, with only enough room for her to lie down in. Paresu tried pounding on the lid with her fists, hoping that at least someone would hear her, but after a few minutes no one freed her.

Then came the horrified thoughts. What if she ran out of air? What if she starved to death? What if they'd thought she was dead, and this was actually a coffin she was buried in? Buried alive! Her eyes widened in terror at the concept and shrieked and began punching and kicking the lid. Her legs gave better results, for when she kicked that end of the lid it popped up and revealed dim light before slamming back down. Paresu calmed down a bit at the knowledge that she was not buried, and gave the lid another hit with her foot. Oddly, but fortunately, only one end of the lid had been screwed to the crate. She kicked more at the sturdy wood, using all her strength, and soon the lid cracked a bit at the middle. A few more jolts and it snapped in half, the bottom flying off. She shimmied down a bit and got her legs out, then raised her posterior over the bottom edge of the crate until she could slide completely out.

A sparse number of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, revealing that the young woman had been placed in some sort of large storage facility. Boxes of different shapes and sizes where stacked against the walls, leaving only enough space for one long path from the far wall to a door on the opposite side. Paresu looked down at this metallic trail, as her crate had been placed atop a pile of other long, narrow crates. Seeing nothing else to do, she slowly crawled down the tower of boxes, thankful that they were stacked unevenly and gave her footholds. In only five minutes her feet were on the ground, and, eager to figure out where she was, trotted to the door.

Paresu opened the door and stepped out from the cargo hatch into a curving hallway about six feet wide. She frowned, as she had no idea where she'd wound up. She rubbed the back of her aching head, and groaned when she saw blood had wiped off onto her palm. She wondered how long the injury had her unconscious, and it became feasible that she might have been transported to anywhere. Paresu hoped she hadn't been cut too badly and walked over to a window across the hall to see if perhaps she could twist her head to see the reflection of the wound. She was surprised to see stars in the sky. Had she really been out all day? Many days?

A bright orb slid slowly into view, and Paresu instantaneously thought how pretty it was with its blending browns and greens and defined splotches of blue, all masked with swirls of white. But then she recognized it as the Earth.

Paresu stared at the planet as she slowly comprehended. The Earth was outside the window. She was looking out said glass. Therefore, she was not on Earth.

The next course of action was simple.

She screamed.

She screamed and yelled and shrieked until finally all the people she'd seen go onto the ship appeared in the hallway that passed the closet. Paresu did not care to recognize the shocked expressions on their faces at her presence.

Goten came forward. "Paresu? What the-" He grabbed her on the shoulders and shouted above her panicking. "HOW DID YOU GET HERE?"

"What's going on?!" Paresu shrieked into Goten's face. "We're in space, Goten! We're not on Earth! We're flying through outer space! Space! SPA-"

Goten, wincing from her outburst, covered her rapidly flapping mouth. "I know. Calm down."

She whined nervously and her eyes stared at him worriedly.

Goten removed his hand and smiled at her encouragingly. "Okay... Well, I suppose there's not avoiding it anymore." He laughed tightly, but Paresu obviously found nothing funny. He remembered all those watching, and he took her hand. "I'll tell you everything, but let's go to another room."

"No." Paresu's hands clutched at her dress tightly. "Just tell me. Now."

"But-"

"Just, just say it!"

"Paresu-"

"Goten!" Bulma hissed. She gave him a pointed look, urging him to spill it.

Goten nodded, and took a breath. He tried to prepare himself for whatever reaction he would receive. He knelt down in front of Paresu and took her hands into his. She looked into his eyes and he did the same. 

"Well," he began, "I suppose there's only one way to say it..." He glanced down for a moment, then back to her face. "Paresu, I'm half-alien. I can fly, control energy, and I was born with a tail."

Awkward silence had never been so prominent. No one was sure what they expected Goten to say, but that wasn't it.

"An... alien ... I see." Paresu muttered after seemingly forever, but her eyes were focused at something far away.

"You... see...?" Goten repeated, confused. 

Paresu nodded idly. "Yes." 

Then she promptly fainted.

"Well," Trunks said, "I thought that there was only one way to say it, but you found another one."

____________________

Ah, so Paresu finally knows. 'Bout time, ne? Next chapter, you'll see her reaction to this news and everyone else's reaction to her presence, not to mention their first visit to a planet. That is, unless I decide to put up the first interlude... decisions, decisions...

As usual, please review or drop me a line at gaiafaye@hotmail.com to let me know how I"m doing. All comments are welcome.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Adjustments

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and make no money from this. So get off my back, man! O_O ::twitch::

Author's Note: You'd think that after so long I'd have something fantastic to give any readers I have. But nothing drastic to the plot occurs in this chapter. So…. Just read. lol

Chapter Eleven: Adjustments

            "So when will you guys be back here?"

            A sigh. "We're not coming back."

            "… WHAT??"

            Bulma pinched the bridge of her nose, as if it would release her tension. "Serive won't allow for any more delays. She said that Paresu was just going to have to come with us."

            Bulma was conferring with Videl in the control center of MARC. She sat in the front chair before the main controls. Before her the windshield gave a clear view of their path through star-studded space. To Bulma's far right, Gohan sat in another chair checking readings and entering information into a log.

            On the screen that displayed the control center back home, Videl was flabbergasted. "Paresu can't stay there!"

            "Well, what do you expect me to do about it? Die?" Bulma replied grimly.

            Videl huffed. "Well, where is she going to stay? With Serive?"

            "Actually, it's been arranged so that Paresu will move in with Goten."

            "I thought Gohan was with Goten."

            "Gohan is with Trunks now."

            "So Vejita is with you?"

            "Yup."

            "But that would mean…"

            "Bra said she'd stay with Serive," Bulma acknowledged with a frown.

            Videl winced. "Oooh, that's gonna make things so much worse."

            "Tell me about it. Vejita is doing some mental exercises with Bra right now, but he's more likely lecturing her." She sighed. "I don't know why he can't just let it go. It's pointless to argue about."

            Videl raised an eyebrow. "Well, I can understand why he's upset with her."

            "She was just trying to accommodate everyone. Plus, Serive likes her, so-"

            "Bulma," the dark-haired woman interrupted, "did it ever occur to you that there's something else bothering Vejita?"

            The inventress blinked. "What do you mean?"

            "How do I put this… Ah!" Videl nodded to herself. "Let's try a bit of role reversal."

            "Oookay…"

            "Alright, Bulma, let's say that, through whatever circumstances, you wound up living on Vejitasei. You're a lone human in a society of Saiyajins. You are very out of place, and you feel awkward in this strange culture. But you love Vejita, so you don't mind living there despite all that."

            Bulma laughed. "Not to mention I'd be queen!" She grinned with a power-hungry glint in her eye.

            Videl stared at her warily for a moment. "Uh… right." She coughed. "Anyway, time goes on, and you and Vejita have your two children, which is a lovely occasion."

            Bulma smiled. "Of course."

            "But," Videl went on, "you are on Vejitasei. Trunks and Bra are raised as Saiyajin. They are integrated into the culture of that planet, not yours. They speak and write in Saiyago, and they don't know a word of our Earth tongue. They're familiar with things that are fairly alien to you. Let's even go as far to say that in this situation, they both have spiky black hair. And even though it makes sense for them to be adjusted to Vejitasei culture, it's odd for you to see your children behaving in ways that you perceive as strange. But the worst part of it is that neither of them ever show any bit of interest in human culture."

            Bulma slowly nodded. "Oh…" she whispered to herself. She laughed nervously. "I never thought of that." She looked thoughtful. "You think I should talk to Bra?"

            "No," Videl replied. "Don't make her have an interest. It'll only hurt Vejita more if she's placating him."

            "Well, it might just get worse if-" A screen popped up and started flashing read with a concurrent beeping noise. "Hold on, Videl…"

            "I just thought it was common knowledge not to fraternize with the enemy," Vejita snapped.

            Bra growled from her cross-legged position on the floor. "And I thought this was another training session, not a lecture on my odd morals." She tightly closed her eyes once again and tried to produce a mental training session.

            "Well, I'd rather not train someone who apparently might turn on her own family."

            She became very still, but slowly opened her eyes. "'Tousan, I'm going to pretend you never said that, since it's so far from the truth that the truth wouldn't even visit it on its deathbed." She shifted a bit. "Now hush up so I can once again attempt this bizarre exercise."

            Vejita snorted. "I wish there'd been time for your mother to build some sort of fighting chamber so I could knock some sense back into you."

            "Oh, you just try it, old man," Bra replied with a grin, trying to put some humor into the conversation. The look on her father's face reminded her of how infrequently he could be amused. She sighed and got to her feet. "Otousan, I know you don't understand, but I also know that you don't really believe I'd turn my back on my own family. Look, it's just that I understand Serive's plight. I mean, you would do anything to save your planet, right?"

            Vejita frowned as the image of a brilliant ruddy orb afloat in thousands of twinkling lights appeared in his head. "That's an unfair argument," he muttered.

            Bra smiled, knowing she had at least made a point. "Look at it this way; Serive likes me, and while she thinks there's some leverage in a friendship, you also have leverage. I might be able to influence her." Her smile widened when her father's expression became thoughtful. "Not to mention that I can keep an eye on her and that creepy little doll."

            He stared at her for a few moments, then nodded.

            "There," Bra chirped. "Now no more talk of this crap." She sat down again. "To even suggest that I don't take offense to 'Kaasan's situation… Honestly!" She looked up to tsk at her father, but he was still brooding. " 'Tousan?" He didn't look at her. "What else could possibly be wrong?" she asked.

            _Beep. Beep. A screen popped up on a wall panel in the sitting room. Bulma's worried face looked down on the off-screen control panel. "Hey, you two, I did another scan of the ship, and we have a problem."  
  
_

            "And that's everything. I think so, at least…" Goten said, thinking for a moment. Paresu had finally awoken from her fainting spell after about an hour, and after more time spent calming her down, the half-Saiyajin had sat down with her in their room and told her everything. Any detail he could remember was included in his descriptions of Vejitasei's end, his father's life on earth, how Vejita truly first met Goku, the race against Freeza on Namek, the fight against Cell preordained to them by a boy from the future, and even the Buu holocaust that a wish made her unable to remember. Goten was also sure to include the happenings of two years ago, revealing that his father had died in order to stop the chaos of the dragonballs.

            Paresu stared at the floor. "So you guys aren't out for world domination?"

            Goten blinked. "No."

            "And you're not looking to steal Earth's resources or something?"

            "No…" he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

            She suddenly grimaced, holding a hand to her chest. "And you don't spawn by laying eggs in people's chests that grow into icky creatures that burst through your rib cage?"

            "…. No." Goten scratched the back of his head with a confused expression.

            She seemed a bit relieved, but still worried. "It's… a lot…" Paresu mumbled. "A lot."

            "Yes…" Goten sighed. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you earlier, Paresu, but-"

            "No." Paresu, eyes closed, held up a hand to stop him. "I'm sorry, Goten, for pushing you to tell me. This… I can understand why you would be nervous about telling me."

            Goten smiled, but she didn't look at him. "Well… what do you think?" he asked nervously.

            "I… I don't know what to think."

            Goten's face became sad. "I understand."

            "I mean… It will take time to sink in and get used to." She looked up and smiled at him. "It's not like you all are different people or anything."

            Goten blinked in surprise. "You mean you still want to be with me?"

            Paresu raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I?" He stared at her blankly, and she laughed. "Ooooh, Goten-kun!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "It's okay! I'd love you even if you had two heads!"

            Goten hugged her back. "You have no idea how happy I am right now!" he exclaimed.

            She giggled and pulled away. "I love to see you happy!" she chirped.

            "I love to see you happy," Goten repeated back to her. "I want you to be happy forever."

            She laughed again. "That would be great. But I'd only be happy with you around, Son Goten." She punctuated it by poking him in the nose.

            His smile widened and his eyes twinkled. "Hold on for a second."

            "Oh?" Paresu remained sitting on the bed as he got up and walked over to the bureau. He rummaged through the top drawer and after a moment withdrew a small black box. When Paresu saw it, her heart stopped. "Goten…"

            He blushed when he got down on one knee in front of her. "Paresu, I've been so lucky to just know you, that I can't describe how great it feels to know that you love me back. I should have known that someone as wonderful as you wouldn't care about something stupid like genetics." He swallowed hard and opened the velvet box to reveal the engagement ring. "Will you marry me?"

            Paresu could only stare at the sparkling jewel blankly.

            "There's something wrong with the landing gear," Bulma said, pointing at one of the ship's legs on a diagram on the main screen.

            Vejita frowned. "But you did an entire check of the ship before take-off. Everything was fine."

            "Something couldn't have happened between the exam and take-off, could it?" Bra asked.

            "I am… displeased," Serive grumbled. She kept fidgeting, noticeably avoiding the wide view of space at the front of the room.

            "Hey!" Bulma spun around and pointed at the Wycanian. "This is NOT my fault."

            "Well somebody better tell me whose fault it is!" She clenched her fists. "Delays are quite inconvenient at the time."

            "I might be simple to fix," Bulma suggested. "We need to land somewhere so I can look at it. As for what caused it, I've already asked the guys back home to look over the computer's scan conclusion and even the security video files-"

            Another screen suddenly blipped up. Videl was sitting at the control panel and resting her face in one hand. "Bulma?" she mumbled.

            "Hey!" Bulma twirled her chair back around to the screen. "Did you find out what happened?"

            Videl sighed, but didn't move. "The initial scan was correct, but Eighteen reviewed the security recordings that took place afterwards… Well, look." She hit a button with her free hand. 

            The screen changed to display a mute version of Pan's earlier incident. All gaped at the screen when she unknowingly smashed a crate into the landing leg, resulting in a massive dent. 

            A flicker, and Videl had moved to the side to give the travelers a view of Pan. She stood sheepishly in the center of the home control center.

            "Um… sorry?" she offered.

            Bra spoke up first. "God, Pan, what the hell was your problem?!"

            Pan glared right back. "Hey, why don't' you ask your bossy brother? He could stand to be more polite!"

            "No reason to act like a total spaz!" Bra shot back.

            "It's not like I did it on purpose!"

            "Ha! You probably wanted to spend a bit more time with Trunks before we took off!"

            "What?!" Pan blushed furiously. "That's completely-"

            "-true!" Bra interrupted. "You looove him! You want to maaarrrry him!"

            "Do not!"

            "You want to huuug him!"

            "Shut-up, you twit!"

            "You want to kiiisss him!"

            "Like you should talk!"

            "GIRLS!" Bulma shouted. "That's enough!"

            That was fine with Bra, who knew that Pan had been ready to bring up the Briefs girl's crush on Goten. She settled for making faces at the dark-haired girl, who returned the expressions with her own.

            Gohan stood behind Bulma and frowned at his wife in reaction to his daughter's behavior. "Looks like we're going to have to have a talk with Pan-chan about her temper when I get home," he said sternly.

            Videl smirked. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it," she replied coolly. Her tone of voice made Pan forget about Bra and grimace.

            Bulma sighed. "Well, we'll figure out how to handle it from here, Videl. Thanks for checking on that for me."

            "No problem. That's why we're here, ne?" Videl replied. "I'll talk to you later."

"Oh, Bra," Pan spoke nonchalantly before Videl signed off. "How's your- ahem- training coming along?"

"Fantastically!" Bra replied coolly, folding her arms.

"Well, then perhaps we should test our strength against each other when you get back," Pan suggested with a smirk. "That is, if in your short time of training you're up to someone who has years of experience on you."

"Oh, yeah?" Bra confidently held her nose in the air. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm doing so well, in face, that I could become a Super Saiyajin any day now."

Vejita raised an eyebrow at this remark, shrugging when Bulma looked at him questioningly.

Pan did not notice the exchange, but openly showed her amusement by smirking skeptically. "Well, should be interesting."

"Say goodbye, girls," Videl spoke up, rolling her eyes.

"Bye, Pan," Bra said. "Have fun on good old Earth," she added snidely.

Pan snorted. "Have a great time training. I can't wait to see what kind of a challenge you'll be." She made sure to accentuate her sarcasm.

The screen blipped out, and Bra huffed. "That girl is insufferable! 'What kind of a challenge you'll be-' PSH!" She grabbed her father's arm and pulled him out of the room, saying, "Back to work, so I can show up that little brat!"

Gohan sweatdropped at Bra's familiar attitude, but there were more important things to think about other than the qualities children acquired from their parents. "Well, where can we stop to make repairs?" he asked Serive.

Serive walked over to the front controls and pressed some keys to bring up a celestial map. She examined it for a moment, and then pointed a crimson nail at one yellow dot among thousands. The computer automatically zoomed in. "This is Elufer, a planet used for refueling and ship maintenance. Since it's so far out in the frontier of space, it doesn't get much business, and it's practically the only station in this area of the north quadrant."

Bulma nodded, following her train of thought. "Which is good. We don't want to run into too many unsavory characters."

Serive frowned. "But we likely will sooner or later." She glanced at Bulma. "I'm in no position to tell Vejita to keep his power in check, but he should watch his temper. We don't need to attract attention from anyone, including authorities. I want there to be as little bloodshed as possible." She looked off to the side. "Until we get to Wycan," she added.

"Vejita's temper isn't what it used to be," Bulma assured her.

Serive smirked at her. "It isn't, eh? Well, we'll see."

Bulma glared at her. "What? You think the moment we set foot on a planet he's gonna start attacking people?"

Serive shrugged. "I'm not thinking anything." She leaned over towards Bulma and smirked. "But people do adapt to new environments, and if it's one they've experienced before, they usually revert to what worked in the past."

Bulma returned the sarcastic grin. "Well, I like to give people more credit than that."

The Wycanian princess laughed a bit, obviously believing Bulma to be foolish. She turned and raised an eyebrow at Gohan. "Can I trust that your fuse is longer than your spawn's?"

"I can control myself," Gohan replied, a bit irritated at how she referred to Pan.

"Good," Serive's eyes flickered to the stars and she abruptly turned away. "I'll be in my room."

Even though they were in space, the clock on Bra's bureau when she entered her and Serive's room showed that it was late in the night on Earth, which would explain why she was tired. Well, that and the fact that she'd managed to slip into a mental spar with her father for the first time. It was tiring even fighting him with her mind; her brain was exhausted.

Bra frowned to herself when she thought of Pan again. That damn girl didn't think she was capable of fighting at all. Well, she'd show her, and she'd show Trunks too! She'd prove to them all that she wasn't only worthy as a fashion consultant.

Bra blinked when she noticed a towel hanging over the window. It had been attached to the wall with masking tape. She turned to Serive, a question on her lips.

"Don't ask," Serive snapped before the girl could speak.

Bra frowned and yawned, stretching her arms wide. "Don't you think the stars are pretty?"

"I don't like space travel," was the short reply.

"Why?"

The only response she received was a sharp glare.

Bra opened her dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and some boxers to sleep in. "You must really love your planet, to travel such a far distance through space even though you hate it."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Of course."

"Then why the surprise?"

Bra bit her lip and turned away as she changed. She hesitated with her answer. "You're just… a very contradictory person, is all."

"Am I?"

"You have one set of values for your people, and an entirely different opinion of everyone else."

"Well, no one else has earned our respect." Serive reached over and picked up Jinja from the nearby nightstand. 

"You think everyone should be just like you?" Bra asked when she was finished changing.

"Well, there would be a better universe if they were." Serive traced her fingers over the dolls stitches.

Bra turned to Serive and gave her a distasteful look. "That is so unbelievably close-minded."

"If you say so."

Bra snorted and hopped onto her bed, getting under the sheets.

From her own bed, Serive eyed her and smirked. "I noticed something interesting today."

"That the universe doesn't revolve around you?" Bra replied.

"When Paresu showed up, you looked less than thrilled to see her."

"She's not supposed to be here. Why would I be thrilled?" Bra shifted on her bed as she tried to get comfortable. "She could get in real danger."

Serive brushed her wayward bit of hair out of her face, but it only fell back into face as usual. Her smirk stayed in place, though. "You kept looking at that Goten boy too." Her grin widened when Bra froze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bra finally said, plopping her head on her pillow and turning to face away from Serive.

"If you have designs on him, why don't you act?"

"I don't have any designs," was the quick reply. "And even if I did, he and Paresu are very much in love." Bra bit her lip. The bitterness in her voice was obvious, voiding her first statement.

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so?'" Bra grumbled, closing her eyes and hoping this conversation would end soon so she could get to sleep.

"I mean," Serive explained, "that you obviously have some advantages over this human girl. You clearly have the ability to get her out of your way."

Bra shot up in bed and stared at Serive in shock. "What are you saying??" she nearly shrieked.

"Back on Wycan, if a woman had affections for a man who as involved, and she clearly had more power than his current interest, it was quite common for her to take the other woman's place."

Bra gaped. "She'd KILL her?"

"Well, not without giving her the opportunity to back down. We are civilized, you know."

Bra grimaced. "That's not civilized at all. What if the man didn't like her?"

"Too bad. Women are given the task of creating the most favorable offspring, so they must choose who they feel are suitable mates. The man has nothing to say about it."

"That's terrible." Bra hugged her knees. "I wouldn't want some guy killing the man I loved just so he could… breed." She stuck her tongue out at the last word.

"It wouldn't be a problem for you," Serive said. "Only the women chose mates. As long as no woman stronger than you wanted your partner, you had nothing to worry about."

"Hn." Bra glanced at Serive. "I suppose you chose the best guy for yourself."

In an instant Serive's expression was completely closed off. She reached over to a switch by her bed and turned off the light. "Good night, Bra," she said coolly in the dark.

Bra remained in her huddled position. She blinked in confusion while she listened to Serive settle under her covers. What had that been about?

Trunks tapped his mother on the shoulder and she jerked straight up in her seat, spinning the chair around. He laughed and she put a hand to her chest, smiling weakly.

"You scared the hell out of me," she chided, rubbing her eyes. She'd been close to falling asleep before her son ripped her back to reality.

"Time for bed," he ordered, pulling her up from her seat. Gohan was already waiting by the door to accompany her to MARC's living quarters.

"Have you seen your father?" Bulma asked as Trunks sat in the chair she'd occupied previously.

"Yeah. He was going to the rooms with Bra when I was leaving for here."

"Okay." She leaned over and brushed his purple bangs back, kissing him on the forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sweetie."

"G'night, 'Kaasan, Gohan," Trunks said as the two left the room. He turned back to the front and brought up the communications screen, sending a signal back to Earth. After a moment, Eighteen popped up.

She looked a bit surprised to hear from him. "Yeah? A problem?"

Trunks flushed a bit. "Um, I was just wondering if Marron was awake?"

She stared blankly for a moment, then a small smile appeared on her lips. "Hold on. I'll check."

Trunks watched her leave the room, and suddenly Krillin moved into the screen's sight. "Oh, hey, Krillin-san!" Trunks greeted.

The former monk smiled and yawned. "Hey, Trunks." He took a seat where his wife had been. "Things going well?"

"Despite everything with the landing gear, yeah. Dad hasn't tried to kill Serive yet, if that's what you're really asking," Trunks replied.

Krillin laughed a bit. "That's good." He became serious. "I don't mean to get you down or anything, Trunks, but…"

Trunks blinked at his somber tone. "Yes?"

"Marron has been really upset since you left."

Trunks looked down. "I'm… I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have proposed until after I got back."

Krillin shook his head. "She'd still be as upset. What I mean is, well…"

"Yes?"

Krillin chuckled. "It's a bit silly, but don't get killed, okay?"

Trunks nodded and smiled, knowing what Krillin meant. "Don't worry. I promise I'll come back."

"Well, you and I both know how hairy things can get out there. Just watch yourself."

Trunks rolled his eyes. "I'm more concerned with watching Bra. She's the only one who's never been out here before. She's bound to do something stupid, like take in some 'cute' creature as a pet that will wind up killing us all." 

"Don't forget Paresu."

Trunks clapped a hand over his eyes. "I _did_ forget. Oh, man. I don't know how we're going to deal with her. We should probably just… lock her in here."

"I'm sure Goten will take care of her," a sweet voice replied.

Trunks lowered his hand and looked back at the screen. "Marron-chan!" he nearly yelled, leaning eagerly towards her image.

Krillin moved and let Marron take his seat. "We're going to turn in," he told her. "We'll send Videl in soon."

"Yeah, okay, Otousan," Marron said dismissively, not taking her eyes off of Trunks.

Krillin smiled at Eighteen, who'd come in with their daughter. Then the two went off to their room in Capsule Corp's guest area.

"So have you met any dazzling alien princesses out there?" Marron asked playfully.

"Oh, plenty," Trunks replied, rolling his eyes. "I have to beat them off with a stick."

"But surely one of them must've caught your eye."

"My eye is looking elsewhere."

"Oh, and where is that?"

"Somewhere far from this ship."

"Tell me about her."

"Oh, there are no words."

Marron burst out laughing. "Ooh, Mr. Smooth-talker! Take me!" she proclaimed, leaning back in her chair as she laughed. After a moment her cheer died down and she smiled at her fiancé softly. "I miss you, Trunks…"

He returned her forlorn expression. "I miss you too." He noticed that she had begun to wring her hands in the bottom of her shirt. "Don't worry, though. I'll be back soon enough," he promised.

Her smile grew, but so did the wetness in her eyes. "Trunks-"

"Please don't cry."

She wrapped her arms around herself and a tear finally fell. "Trunks, you know you can't promise me that nothing will happen to you out there."

Trunks ran a hand through his hair. "Don't think like that."

"I try not to," she replied, wiping at her eyes. "But… it's hard…"

Trunks became very serious. "Marron, if there's anything you can do for me right now, it to believe. Believe that we will all make it back safe and sound. Because if you really think that I'm going to die out here-"

"Oh, no!" Marron looked horrified at the prospect. She flattened a hand against the screen. "No, Trunks-chan. I do believe. I will believe. I'll pray for you every night."

The corner of Trunks' lips perked up and he put his hand up on the screen against hers. "Thank you, Marron."

The doors in the back of the room slid open and Trunks turned to see Goten walk in with a shocked expression on his face.

Trunks frowned at his friend's expression. "Goten?"

On Earth, Marron could also see him on her screen. "What's wrong?"

Goten looked up at them and his expression turned into a relieved grin. He gestured to someone outside the door, and Paresu bounced in and clung to his arm. "Guess how many engaged people are in this room?" he asked.

Bulma walked into her and Vejita's room and flicked on the light. She yawned and stretched her arms, raising an eyebrow when she noticed her husband sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. "What are you doing down there?"

He sat with his legs bent and arms resting on his knees. His head was tilted down and he just seemed to stare at the rough burgundy carpet. In response to her question, the prince only shrugged.

The blue-haired woman closed the door and stretched again, cracking her neck. Sitting in the control room all day had made her aging joints stiff. "Well, it seems our landing gear is our only problem. I hope this thing doesn't collapse when we get to Elufer." She glanced at her husband as she changed into a loose fitting pair of pajamas. "You're quiet."

Another shrug, though his eyes slid up and stared at the round window in the wall across from him. Done changing, Bulma sat at the end of the bed behind him, her legs on either side of his shoulders. She stroked her hands through his coarse hair and looked out the window. She smiled softly. "Being out here brings back memories," she said softly. She laughed. "Did I ever tell you about the dream I had on Namek?"

He rested his head on the mattress and closed his eyes as she, more or less, pet him. "No."

She laughed. "It was after Gohan found the dragonball you hid in a lake. I was hiding in this narrow nook, and I dreamed that you found me and demanded that I give it back to you. It was in plain sight and I kept trying to tell you where it was, but you didn't seem to hear me. I woke up just before you blasted me away."

His eyes slid open. "I see I made a great first impression."

Bulma laughed. "That only proves that first impressions are not always true," she said, running her hand across his cheek.

"Hn…" He went back to staring at the stars.

Bulma gazed at them too, and she thought more about how her husband used to be. She looked back down and stared at him softly. "This must bring back some memories for you too, ne?" she asked quietly.

He didn't answer.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her hand rested on his cheek.

He shifted under her and got up, walking over to the bureau. "I'm going to bed," he said flatly, opening a drawer to get some pajamas.

_She was suffocating, writhing in the empty space around her. She twisted and turned, but all she could see were the stars closing in around her. The sparkling whiteness got brighter as they approached, and soon her vision was encompassed with ivory. The whiteness dulled suddenly and pulled back, and her heart beat even faster when she finally saw the dark purple curve of lips below a small nose, and above that two bright red eyes that took in her suffering with glee. A leathery tail wrapped about her throat was what was suffocating her now as the Icejin lay on top of her, quickly making shreds of her clothing._

_The face vanished and there was disgustingly warm breath on her ear. "You should be quicker to learn obedience after this," a mocking voice purred._

_Two claws gripped her hips as his pelvis prepared to thrust-_

Serive snapped upright in her bed. Her hands clutched her blanket tightly; her nails had torn through the fabric. Her breathing was quick and labored, and she finally tried to calm herself down, closing her eyes and running a shaking hand through her hair. She brought her arm down and stared at her slick palm, and she realized that she was soaked in sweat. Her gaze flickered to the bed next to her, but Bra showed no signs of waking. Her form made only slight rising and falling movements with her breathing.

She threw off the covers and got to her feet, but her legs suddenly gave out from under her. Crumpled on the floor, Serive showed no intention of getting up. Her hands curled into the fists against the carpet as she struggled to suppress her tears, but the dream kept flashing in her mind, along with memories she prayed to the gods she would someday forget. Her breaths had not slowed at all, and now her exhalations came out in small sobs. A small noise caught her attention, and the Wycanian looked up at the wall to see that towel had fallen down. The stars in the window seemed to gather outside of it, laughing at her, happily reminding her of all the tyrant had done. Giving up, Serive cursed herself and cried.

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Constructive criticism, please? =D??!!??

Next chapter will likely be an interludy flashback thingy…


	13. Interlude One

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of it's characters. I do retain the right to do with them as I please for the sake of personal pleasure and free entertainment for others. =9

Author's Note: Well, I did pop this out pretty quick, though it's not really a chapter. This is the first of a several interludes that will break into the story. All interludes will take place in the past and let you, the reader, in on what happened between Serive and Vejita in the old days.

Warning: This chapter contains the beginnings of RAPE.

Interlude One

Serive grinned to herself as she strolled down a long hall towards a set of crimson double doors. Despite the rampaging barbarity of it all, this "purging" job was quite simple. Freeza must have been clueless about her race by thinking that their less technological, more nature-involved ways meant they were weak and couldn't handle violence. Her grin widened. Completely clueless. What did he think she'd do at this meeting? Break down and cry? Hell, she could do this for another three months, or however long it took to find a way out of here.

She could understand why the soldiers could kill without a thought; it was easy. Simple, quick, anonymous, and with the atmosphere of the soldiers' lives, it was a great venting tool. Still, inside Serive was a bit unnerved at her lack of disgust. She did not want to remain in this service for longer than she had to, lest she become as uncivilized and moronic as most of her purging peers. At least she understood how so many warriors would come to this employment with little thought. 

Serive laughed openly as she approached the main doors to Freeza's main chamber. She knew how it would go: more threats she could withstand, more purging she'd be assigned to, perhaps a true risk of death. But death would be worth it. She refused to see her people in the hands of that vicious monster. She'd die before disclosing her planet's location and betraying her planet, the Wycanians, and most of all her king and queen to the greedy desires of the Ice-jin. Relov's adoring face flashed in her mind, and she frowned. Yes, she had been developing a fondness for the slightly younger boy, but she should not be favoring him above anyone else when it came to preserving Wycan. Besides, he was not a good match for her anyway. Her father would be furious if she knew she had any affection for Kouruji's new apprentice. But still…

The appearance of an effeminate creature with periwinkle skin interrupted her thoughts. She had seen him during every meeting she had with Freeza; he usually stood unemotionally in the corner or by Freeza's dias. He would just observe and say nothing during her interrogation, though once or twice she caught a bit of unamused surprise in his eyes at her fortitude. Sometimes the strange thought would cross her mind that he seemed a bit anxious for her, though she never knew why.

He was leaving Freeza's main room as she reached the doors, and she gave him a sarcastic salute as he passed by her. He gave her a warning glare.

"I would not continue to show that cockiness with Freeza," Zarbon cautioned.

Serive shrugged. "No harm in it. I am the key to my planet, am I not?" She laughed. "What's he going to do?"

The changeling frowned, tucking back a stray strand of dark green hair. "You're going to learn that answer the hard way," he muttered, continuing on his way.

"See you later," Serive said with a little wave, watching the man walk away, his long braid swinging back and forth behind him. He met the rather disgusting and rotund Dodoria at the end of the hall, and they vanished around the corner. It occurred to her then that this was the first time Zarbon would not be watching her direct defiance of his master; he had always been there, whether alone or with that aggravating pink bastard, Dodoria. Why would he not be there this time? The question made her feel uneasy, but she could not discern why Zarbon's presence in the room was so important to her. Dismissing her unnerving thoughts, she pushed one of the red doors open and slipped into Freeza's throne room.

The Ice-jin stood in the center of the room, waiting for her. As she had done about ten times before, Serive approached and knelt down on one knee, bowing her head. "I'm here, as you requested, Freeza-sama."

"You may stand," the tyrant replied.

She did so. "Why did you want to see me?" she asked, and she couldn't help her smirk. She always started their sessions this way; it had become routine. Next, he would ask her point-blank about Wycan's location.

"Just for a little talk."

She blinked. This was new. By now she should be telling him to find her planet by his damn self and preparing for a blow to the face. "A talk?" she repeated.

He nodded, eyes staring impassively into hers.

His utter calmness was very disconcerting, and Serive found herself frowning slightly as he slowly paced back and forth in front of her. He showed no anger, no arrogance, nothing. Then he spoke.

"Let us review the past three months, shall we?" he said coolly.

He did not go on, so Serive responded. "If you wish, _sir_." The title had an obvious inflection of humor.

He stopped in front of her, though he still faced the wall across the room. His blood eyes slid to her and for a moment the corner of his mouth quirked up in a very amused expression before relaxing again. "I do."

He began his pacing again, his tail swinging idly back and forth, speaking as if he had all the time in the universe. "Three months ago, I met your father on Kreoko, while you two were visiting its king, an acquaintance of his. I had been searching for the Wycanians for some time, to no avail, for apparently they had, coincidentally shortly after it was known that I wanted to visit, used all the power they could spare in shielding their planet from any kind of radar."

"And visual surveillance," Serive added with a proud smile. Though she did not fear death, she doubted Freeza would take so far an action. After all, she was the only one who could reveal her planet's location, and he could only dispose of her if he was absolutely sure she would not be budged.

He smirked again, and this time it stayed, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "So I was pleased to meet your father, who implied that he could meet me another day so we may arrange a meeting. I politely replied that I was not a fool. After a short conversation, I realized that your father would not be so kind as to escort me back to your world, so I proposed that if he was not so keen on employing your people under me, perhaps I should take you back with me to this base. You could have some first-hand experience, and if you thought it was worthwhile venture, you could escort me back to Wycan and we could report such to your king."

He paused, stopping in his steps and turning to her. "Of course, with all the underhanded words and phrasing, we all still know what the true deal was. I was rather surprised that your father would give his heir to me to spare your people." He laughed a bit to himself. "Although, it has happened before. This time, however, it was much more straightforward."

"The survival of all is more important than the survival of one," Serive recited. It was a basic Wycanian moral.

"Is that so?

"Of course. Any society needs dedication in its people. That is how Wycan has been around for so long." Serive stared at Freeza and added pointedly, "And that is why you will never break me down and make me tell you where Wycan is."

"Do you remember Vejita?" the Ice-jin asked abruptly with a horribly pleasant smile.

The grin made her uneasy, but she answered. "I see him now and then." What did Vejita have to do with this?

"You remind me of him."

"Do I?"

"Strong, willful, and proud… Clever and witty; always willing to make a smart-ass comment to prove your independence. All the necessary qualities for a royal brat. I'm the same way." His eyes had a sudden eerie sheen. "But do you know the difference between us?"

Serive opened her mouth to answer, but there was only a strangled sound when his claws took hold of her throat and squeezed. The sudden jerk of her body threw Jinja off her shoulder and sent the doll sliding across the tile floor. She worked her lungs the best she could to get air, but her efforts were stifled when his grip tightened.

"I am more powerful than either of you could ever hope to be!" he snarled, locking her still defiant gaze with his glare.

"Death is nothing to me!" she rasped out.

"Death?" He snorted, lowering his face close to hers. "There are much worse things, my dear," he hissed, a hand traveling across her breast.

Serive's eyes widened in fear. No. Not that. She was ready to face horrible torture, ready to meet her demise, but not this. She desperately lashed out, hoping to snag an important blood vessel with her long nails, but she only sliced through air.

He growled and slammed her onto the floor. His tail slithered around her throat and was nearly suffocating her as it held her on her back. She twisted and turned, gasping for breath. The hold loosened slightly and she could drag air into her lungs, but she couldn't get up no matter how she writhed. Freeza lay on top of her, quickly making shreds of her clothing. She felt a sudden sickness when something firm pressed into her leg, but she could only glare in horrified anticipation at Freeza's sick, gleeful face as she realized why Zarbon had not sat in on this particular session.

The face vanished and there was disgustingly warm breath on her ear. "You should be quicker to learn obedience after this," a mocking voice purred, and he drew back his hips.

Strewn across the floor, Jinja's stitched eyes could only watch.

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Constructive criticism, please? ::puppy-dog eyes::

Next chapter should be out soon. The key word being "should."


	14. Chapter Twelve: The Empire's Legacy

Disclaimer: No owny DBZ. Yadda yadda. Blah blah. Poo.

Author's Note: Long time, no see. Much pride, no apology. Just kidding. Sorry for the loooooong delay. This is a fairly long chapter (19 pages in Word), so maybe that will make up for it? ;;; Oi. Anyway, hopefully it won't take another 8 months for the next chapter to come out. And to add to that, I hope I actually finish this before I die. ;;  By the way, since can't freaking read the code in this right, major scene changes will be denoted by a series of marks. Grr.

Chapter Twelve: The Empire's Legacy

"Hmm. Maybe I should try fashion design again," Bra commented. "These are so… plain." She stuck her tongue out as she looked down at the dark blue jumpsuit she'd pulled out of her drawer. The Capsule Corporation logo was stitched into the right breast. Her mother had supplied each person with about a dozen of these to wear during their journey, though Bra didn't know what Paresu was supposed to do.

Serive looked down at her similar black outfit, which she was already dressed in. She herself felt satisfied. "If you're so unhappy with this, didn't you bring clothes with all your luggage?"

Bra stared at nothing for a moment as she thought. "… I'm not sure…"

Serive sweatdropped. "What is in those suitcases anyway?"

The girl's expression didn't change. "Hmm…"

The Wycanian snorted. "Humans."

Bra glanced at the older woman out of the corner of her eye.  "Serive, last night…"

Serive set her jaw and looked back at her warily.  Had the girl seen her breakdown the night before?

"You… I mean… You didn't really kill a woman over a guy, did you?"

Serive blinked.  She wanted to talk more about that?  "I was never challenged," she answered, taking Jinja from the night table and slipping the doll into her right pocket. "I would if I had to, though."

Bra's expression suddenly brightened. "Oooh, so you do have a guy!" she exclaimed, her girlish side overtaking her entire demeanor.  "What's he like?"

Serive replayed the expression she had given Bra last night over the subject.  "There is nothing to discuss about that."

Bra frowned, put off at being denied gossip.  Then her eyes widened at some realization and she looked down at the floor.  "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said quickly. "I should have guessed, with the war…"

The princess was confused, but then she recognized the sympathy in the half-Saiyajin's face.  "He's not dead," she snapped.

"Oh!" Bra looked relieved.  "Well, that's good--"

"He will be when I find him," Serive added with determination.

"… You don't mean…"

Serive grabbed Jinja from the night table and tucked the doll into her right pocket. "What don't I mean?"

"He joined Kouruji?"

"Well, he's not here with me, is he?!" Serive growled.

Bra gulped, hating the change the conversation had taken.  Deciding to change the subject, she turned to the mirror with a hair tie in hand.  "Once Wycan is liberated," she said in a brighter tone as she pulled her hair into a ponytail, "I would like to stay and see how things work there.  I doubt we'll stay much longer than a few minutes after 'Tousan takes care of your problem, though."

Serive laughed, though her mood was still stormy.  "I don't see why you'd want to stay."

"Oh, I know you'll be busy rebuilding." Bra examined her hair and smiled, nothing that the plain jumpsuit did accentuate everything just right.  "But a more in-depth culture-- compared to Earth's-- would be interesting.  Something of a vacation, really."

"A vacation?"

"From all the superficial, material crap!" Bra exclaimed, wondering if she should bother with make-up.  "People on Earth are so petty!"  She decided a girl should always look her best and reached for the concealer on the nightstand when Serive started laughing.

"You want a vacation from materialism?!" she chortled.

Bra turned to the older woman and blinked obliviously.  "What's so funny?"

Serive shook her head in disbelief.  "Look at you!  You're the pinnacle of superficiality, admiring yourself in the mirror like that!  Putting on make-up! Who are you trying to impress?  And you reek of materialism! You brought so many bags you can't even remember what's in them! And your family's entire livelihood depends on technology, not just economically, but in your everyday lives!  That's the worst kind of materialism: that which has been so ingrained into your lifestyle that you can't survive without it!"

"That's not true!" Bra blurted out defensively.  "I just want to look my best! What's wrong with that?"

"The point in looking your best is to impress," Serive pointed out.  "That's something royalty learns early on.  And don't even try to argue your way out of the materialism."

Bra was ready to do just that, but she hesitated as it all sunk in.

"It's nice to appreciate depth," Serive said, "but it's hypocrisy when you have none yourself."

"I have depth!" Bra retorted.  "It's just… like you said, you know.  It's a part of my culture.  I can't help it.  I know having things and looking good aren't the most important things in life, but on Earth… The way things work on Earth, looks and possessions trump everything else anyway."  Bra stared at the concealer in her hand and sighed as she unscrewed the cap.  "Maybe I just need a vacation from myself."

Serive snatched the bottle from her roommate and placed it back on the table.  "You can't have depth if you're not comfortable with yourself."

Bra looked up at her and giggled.  "You are so strange.

"What do you mean?"

"On second you're threatening people and upholding your culture as superior, and then you're lecturing me on depth."

"I don't see the strangeness."

Bra shook her head and screwed the cap back on the make-up.  "Well, you think your way is the only way, so that doesn't surprise me."  She tossed the bottle back into the drawer.

"If I'm so difficult, why do you put up with me?"

"I understood, remember?  I'd do anything to save my family if I needed to.  And you haven't hurt anyone yet.  Plus…"

"Plus?"

"Okaasan told me what Papa was like before he really settle down on Earth.  Having people who took the time to understand him helped him become a better person and have a better life."

"I'm a bad person?" Serive said, with some offense.

"What have we been talking about?" Bra reminded her with annoyance.  The woman couldn't accept that she was as much of a hypocrite as Bra.

Serive waved her hands in dismissal.  "Let's not discuss it again.  Besides, I'm sure another part of the reason you keep me company is to spy."

"I am not spying!" Bra shouted indignantly.

"Really?"

"Well… you must know that if I knew you were going to do something bad to my family or friends, I'd have to stop you one way or another."

"And you must know that I'm not as stupid as to let you know if I was going to do anything."

"And you must know that it'll be hard not to let anything slip if I'm around a lot."

Serive smirked.  "True, but you do know that I--"

"You won't do anything if not provoked," Bra finished.  "Yeah, I know.  And oddly enough, I trust you on that."  She smiled at Serive.  "You know you can trust me a little too, right?"

The Wycanian looked at the girl solemnly before turning away and walking to the door.  "I don't trust anyone," she said as she vanished into the hall.

Serive entered the control room of the ship to find Bulma and her son already at the helm. To her relief, Vejita was not there to see what she was about to do. Granted, there was nothing he could do about it lest she take advantage of her control over Bulma, but it was quite irritating to have him burning holes into her with his eyes.

Serive approached the head of the room, keeping her eyes on Bulma's form and away from the starry view, and held out her hand in front of the human woman's face. "Here."

Bulma blinked, her eyes needing a moment to focus on Serive's palm. A single dark pletel sat on white flesh. "Excuse me?" She raised an eyebrow at the lava-haired Wycanian.

"Obviously pletels can't stay in your system forever," Serive replied. "So I need you to take more. And you _will_ take it, since I currently am still in control and will _make_ you take it if you don't do it willingly."  The sound of Trunks pressing keys to their right was noticeably louder, and Serive looked over her shoulder to see him glaring at her. "Careful," she said pointedly, "don't want to break anything and make me upset."

Bulma sneered at the woman and snatched the plant product from her hand. She grimaced when it dissolved in her mouth and left a bitter aftertaste.

"Good girl." Serive smirked.

Bulma's smile was distasteful like the pod she'd just ingested.

The large metal doors in the back of the room slid open and two more of the travelers entered. Trunks glanced over and his expression lightened. "Hey guys."

"Hey," Goten replied with a nod. His hand was entwined with Paresu's, and the couple glanced at each other conspiratorially before breaking into grins.

Serive frowned. She didn't like secrets, but she doubted anything the two were keeping to themselves was at all a danger to her own goals.

Bra soon entered with her father. The girl raised a hand in greeting to the pale woman, but Vejita only gave her the usual scowl, which deepened when he noticed the friendly exchange. The doors opened again to allow Gohan access, and once he had assumed his post on the left of the main panel, Goten cleared his throat loudly.

"I have an announcement," he said. At his side Paresu smiled shyly and clasped her hands together.

The room gave them the attention they desired, though when Bra stared at Goten she felt like her stomach had twisted itself around her intestines. Announcements when given by smiling couples were usually good things, but not when Bra associated them to the Son boy she was hopelessly infatuated with.

"Everyone…" Goten put an arm around Paresu's shoulders. "We're getting married."

Bulma and Gohan stood up immediately and offered congratulations to the pair. Trunks only winked at his friend from across the room, as he had already been privy to this information. Vejita, as expected, did nothing more than absorb this information with mild interest, while Serive did much likewise. As well-wishes were offered, Bra could only stare at the two and try her best to smile in case either Goten or Paresu glanced over at her.

"My planet's mating customs don't seem so awful now, do they?" Serive said in a low voice to the girl.

Bra was about to snap at her roommate, but she was cut off by her mother's anxious voice.

"We are now approaching Elufer!" Bulma announced to the group.

The view above the controls showed a small, tan planet with a sparse amount of clouds in the atmosphere and only a few spots of blue here and there. As they quickly approached, they observed that it wasn't that much bigger than the moon of Earth. An area of the control panel lit up and a speaker crackled to life. A deep voice spoke, but most of MARC's passengers stared at the speaker in confusion.

Serive sighed. "It's one of the other standard languages." She looked down and made sure Jinja was secure in her pants pocket, and then began giving instructions. "You," she said, pointing from Gohan to Bulma to Trunks, "sit up front and get ready for the landing procedure. I'll direct you." She waved a hand at everyone else. "You all sit down and strap in."

Everyone followed her instructions begrudgingly. The exception, of course, was Vejita, who made sure to glare at Serive until she bent over the speaker on the main console and began conversing with the other being on Elufer. With a snort, the prince sat in a seat next to Bra, who eagerly stared out the windshield so she could see the planet as they landed.

"Nervous?" Vejita asked her.

Bra shrugged, still staring straight ahead. "It's just a new planet, yeah? I'm sure we'll be fine. We can protect ourselves."

Vejita smirked. "I'm well aware that Elufer will give us no trouble at all. That's not what I meant."

Bra frowned and turned to look at her father. "What do you mean?"

"We'll finally get to some physical training," he answered, resting his head on the headrest and closing his eyes.

Bra gulped. With an insecure posture and her hands clutching her seatbelt, she turned back to the window.

Serive finished speaking through the communicator and put a hand on Bulma's shoulder. "Stay on this course and you'll see the landing platform." She moved away to get to her seat before the expected turbulence began.

Bra, along with a few others, cried out as the ship lurched when it hit the atmosphere. Serive had to cling to Vejita's seat to keep from falling over, but only wound up in his lap. They blinked at each other for a moment before Vejita sneered and she snickered and patted him on the cheek. Before his fist made it to her face, she quickly made it to her own chair and strapped herself in just as MARC jerked again.

The passengers gritted their teeth as the ship began to vibrate violently.  Outside the ship they could see the atmosphere flaring a bright orange with their descent.  Their uneasiness only lasted a few minutes, however. The rattling subsided and the craft flew smoothly in Elufer's sky. Multiple sighs and mumbles filled the room as the ship headed to a gray platform with a bright orange X in the center. The marking became larger as they descended, then finally disappeared below them as MARC hovered over the landing pad. Bulma gave the cue, and Trunks struck a few keys to activate the landing gear, and all the while Gohan was watching the readouts to make sure everything was operating properly. A screen noted that all legs had successfully emerged. The craft lowered, and Bulma held her breath, waiting for the injured leg to collapse.  There was an ominous creaking sound, but that was all, and the screen confirmed that the landing had been successful.

Gohan studied his screen, tapping a few keys now and then.  "Everything looks good, Bulma."

Bulma turned in her seat to the others. She sighed and smiled with blatant relief. "Well, here we are." She unbuckled herself and stood up. "Let us greet the natives."

The only "native" in sight when they exited their ship was a single rather cranky-looking being. His build was humanoid and dressed in plain brown clothing, though his skin was a murky blue. Between dark, squinted eyes beneath a thick brow, his nose was elongated and rectangular, with no indentation for the bridge.  His thick lips were pressed together in an annoyed frown while he watched them exit their craft. As they approached him, Paresu warily clung to Gohan and made him stay at the back of the group with her.

"Are you sure we're welcome here?" Gohan said softly to Serive.

"What can I do for you?" the being said in a rather hostile manner.

"I guess," Serive muttered back to Gohan.  She walked up to the being.  "We're in need of some repair," she said bluntly.

He gave her a once over with open disdain and said nothing.

Serive was unpleasantly surprised at his rudeness.  "Is there a problem?" she snapped.

"No problem at all!" another voice said.  Another alien of the same origin, dressed in similar attire, approached from the large main building.  He stopped beside the other and glared disapprovingly at him.  "Cinkame, don't be so disrespectful of our visitors."

Cinkame did not lessen his ill-feelings towards the newcomers.  He instead began growling to the other in a different language and making clearly unfriendly gestures towards the group.

"Jeez," Bra whispered to herself.  "And I thought Serive was judgmental." She looked to her father and the Wycanian to see if they could understand what Cinkame was saying, but by their bewildered expressions she could tell it wasn't a familiar dialect.

The other dark blue being finally interrupted the rant with a few unfamiliar words of his own.  Whatever he had said, Cinkame was now silent, though he seethed to himself with his arms folded over his chest.

"I am Creogin," the friendlier creature introduced himself.  "Please excuse my brother.  He and my other kin are rather unwelcoming to people of other species.  They have been mistrustful ever since our home world, Lauvern, was destroyed back during the Kold reign."  He laughed in an attempt to lighten the uncomfortable atmosphere.  "They are not as wise as their older brother."

Vejita did not change his impassive expression, but in his mind he searched his memory.  Was Lauvern one of the worlds that he had taken care of all those years ago?

"Well, I guess we can understand that," Bulma replied.

"Thank you," Creogin said with a small bow and an appreciative smile.  "Now, what is it you need help with?"

"Kahliola ji oden," Cinkame suddenly spoke up, staring at the ship.  He pointed to the dented leg.  "Ooda."

Bulma nodded.  "Yes, we need help reconstructing that part of our landing gear."

Creogin gestured to his brother, who had wandered over to the ship and was inspecting the leg.  "Cinkame is the best ship repairman we have here on Elufer.  He'll know exactly what to do."

After a minute or two, the Lauvernian returned to the group, looking thoughtful.

"So do you think you could help us fix it?" Bulma asked Cinkame hopefully.

He gave her an irritated look; she had apparently broken his train of thought.  He made some calculations using his fingers, then turned to his brother and began speaking in his native tongue.

Creogin shook his head and signaled for his brother to stop.  "What have I told you?! Tell our customers the problem, not me." 

Cinkame glared at him, but turned to the group.  "We don't have the supplies for the new endoskeleton this leg requires," he said gruffly.  "I can order them and they'll probably arrive in a couple weeks."

"TWO WEEKS??" Serive exclaimed. "We don't have that long!" she snapped threateningly.

Cinkame shrugged. "I don't know what you expect me to do," he grunted. "You want me to order the parts or not?"

Serive's expression was such a combination of anger and distress that Bulma felt sorry for her. She put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe the parts will get here earlier than that," she offered.

Serive slapped her hand away. "Be quiet, you foolish Earthling!" she growled. The angry noise changed into a yip when Vejita grabbed her arm.

"Don't _ever_ strike my wife," he said dangerously.

Serive returned his expression. "What are you going to do about it?" she countered.

"Please, please!" Creogin exclaimed. "Don't argue. I understand it's a stressful situation, but fighting won't help." He smiled. "I have a solution you may consider."

Bulma rubbed her slightly throbbing hand in annoyance. "And what is that?" she asked, though her glaring eyes stayed on Serive.

"Cinkame can patch up the damage as best we can here, and then you can make a stop on Svaeg."  Creogin pointed off to his right in the sky.  "It's somewhat of a trash yard planet, but the natives do quite well bartering the useful items they receive. They'll likely have materials you can use to fix your landing gear."

"They've helped you before?" Serive asked.

Creogin shook his head.  "We've mostly stayed on Elufer ever since we received this job."

"That's what?" Gohan spoke up.  "Five years?"

Creogin laughed.  "More like fifty."

"Fifty?!" Gohan exclaimed.  "You've stayed here for half a century??"

The Lauvernian shrugged.  "More or less.  We didn't travel much back on our homeworld.  Of course, our people's ignorance is what left us vulnerable to the spread of the Planet Trade, but that is the way we are.  We prefer to be settled down.  Not much left to worry about anyway."

"I'm sorry," Bra said softly, looking down at the ground.

"Oh, it was a long time ago," Creogin assured her. "You can't live in the past forever." Cinkame sneered at him, and Creogin frowned. "Unless you're my brothers," he amended.

"Alright."  Serive folded her arms.  "We'll let you guys do the best you can with our ship, and then we'll go to Svaeg and finish things up there."

"While you're waiting, you can sit in our motel lounge, if you like," Creogin offered. "One of my other brother's can make you a meal, if you're hungry."

"Why, thank you!" Bulma replied with a smile.

"I am taking a break," a stoic voice stated.

It was another of Creogin's brothers. He was shorter than his siblings and his gaze was more severe than Cinkame's hard glare.  The sleeves on his plain outfit were rolled up and he was wiping his hands on a soiled apron.

"A break, Ghelain?" Creogin repeated.

Ghelain's irritated stare wandered to their guests.  "Yes. I'm afraid they'll have to fend for themselves if they want food now."

Creogin's confused expression changed to anger.  "Don't be difficult, Ghelain," he snapped.  "You never take a break this early.  Your attitude is clear."

"And yours is remarkably unsound," Ghelain snapped back.

The argument reminded Vejita of something that at the moment concerned him more than food.  "Is there any place around here to fight?" Vejita asked, not caring that he was interrupting the hostile conversation.

"Oh, yes!"  Bulma nodded, eager to avert the tense situation.  "Vejita is teaching our daughter how to fight."

"Did you say Vejita?" Creogin said with some surprise.  His brothers reacted in the same shocked way.

Bulma's eyes widened; she'd completely forgotten her husband's history. She quickly forced a laugh. "Vejita? Who's that? This is… uh… um…" She glanced at Bra for help, but her daughter only shrugged. "His name is…" Bulma finally turned to Vejita and gave him a look. "Honey, tell him your name."

Ghelain rolled his eyes. "And you managed to fly a spacecraft."

Creogin smiled and shook his head. "You needn't worry, friend," he said to the human. "We hold no ill will towards Saiyajins."

"We?" Ghelain repeated with a snort. "You and I have very different opinions on that, Brother. Simply because those who decimated Lauvern were not of a particular origin doesn't mean I don't despise all their mercenary brethren." He aimed the remark directly at Vejita, who showed no reponse. "I should-"

"You should go take your break then," Creogin snapped. His disappointed glare followed his brother to the front door of the largest building and then returned to his guests. "Don't worry. We will not say anything, but you should be cautious in the future. Many others would not hesitate to turn the Saiyajin no Ouji in to the Confederation Police Force."

"The what?" Vejita asked. He'd never heard of the organization.

"He still has a file?!" Serive exclaimed in surprise.

"You never mentioned goddamn intergalactic law enforcement!" Vejita growled at her.

The Wycanian princess kept her concerned gaze on the Lauvernian. "Don't files expire after thirty years?"

Creogin shook his head. "Many particular soldiers have files with much longer lives."

"When the hell did this happen?" Vejita snapped.

"Don't you know anything about the rise of the Confederation and the fall of the Kolds?" the blue man asked in disbelief.

Vejita frowned and crossed his arms. "I spent little time in space after Freeza died."

Creogin turned back to the Wycanian. "And you don't even know the basic warrant protocol." He held up his hands to stop Serive from angrily responding. "I don't blame you. You're from Wycan, after all. I know you've basically isolated yourselves." He looked at the others. "What about the rest of you?"

"I was around a couple years ago," Trunks offered, "but I never encountered any kind of Confederation or their police force."

Their host shook his head. "I'm not about to let you folks go on your journey without a short history lesson." He gestured to the seating area. "Why don't you all sit down? I'm a bit hungry, so I'll get some drinks and food and we can talk."

Gohan nodded. "Sure. Information is always useful."

"Cinkame, get to work," Creogin ordered.

The other grunted and headed back over to the marred leg. When reached out to examine the metal with his hands he realized that someone had followed him. Turning, he spotted the lava-haired visitor setting a small doll down on a nearby rock.  It faced him, and he couldn't help but feel disturbed by its stitched eyes.

Serive looked at the repairmen and said, "Hope you don't mind a little monitoring."

As she walked away, Cinkame stared at the small brown figure. He finally snorted and turned away after a few moments, muttering something about "strange, stupid foreigners" in his native language.

Creogin swallowed his drink and set down his glass. He rested his hands in his lap and began. "Well, you all seem to know about Freeza. He was reported to have died in the Namek explosion, much to the collective glee of the universe, but long months later it was reported that he had been recovered and reconstructed. Hope was destroyed again, as the resurgence of efforts from many rebellion organizations and private parties now seemed worthless."

"Rebellion organizations?" Serive and Vejita both repeated at the same time, exchanging a look.

Creogin nodded. "Multiple rebel groups had been discreetly formed over the years, and many had managed to keep their activities a secret from Lord Kold and his awful sons." He laughed a bit. "I suppose from your reaction you didn't think they existed?" He took another sip of his drink. "Can't blame you for it. They were so secretive that it was only their members that didn't doubt their existence."

"What do you mean by 'private parties'?" Serive pressed.

Creogin looked at Vejita. "He can tell you."

Vejita was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I used to doubt it because of the reports that you may be dead, but here you are, living and well," Creogin explained. "Some time after the explosion of Namek, many of Freeza's battalions were wiped out by unknown forces. Some desperate reports to bases from those battalions were recovered, however, and many of them detail that the Saiyajin Prince was mercilessly destroying them."

Vejita remembered now. He had stolen the ship at Capsule Corporations to search for Kakarot, who he wound up never finding. He did find, however, forces still loyal to the Kolds, mindless soldiers who knew nothing of Namek's destruction, likely because the higher-ups wanted to avoid pandemonium. Of course, Freeza would turn up alive later, but at the moment Vejita had been disgusted by the leaderless soldiers who couldn't wipe their own asses unless they'd been ordered to. He'd killed them all, more than happy to obliterate the followers of the creature that had made his life a living, breathing, laughing Hell for thirty years.

"You weren't the only one who took independent action," Creogin continued. "Many who heard of Freeza's apparent death rose up and annihilated those still loyal to them, even though his father and brother were still alive. The remaining Kolds managed to put down many revolts, but a few were still successful, and former Kold bases transformed into rebel refuges." A breath. "Freeza was finally repaired, and all feared that the reign of terror would continue on worse than ever. But then the Ice-jin and his father made a trip to Earth and never returned."

Bulma nodded. "They both died there."

Creogin looked to Vejita. "Your doing?"

Bulma sweatdropped. "No, but it's a long story. Please continue with yours."

The Lauvernian raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "This left the elder Kold brother to manage the entire empire on his own. It had been somewhat difficult when his father was barely around and his brother was on the verge of death, but now completely alone it was nearly impossible." He smiled. "Now sure that there was only one Ice-jin left, the rebel groups were more inspired than ever. After only a year, Cooler retained only the faction of the empire that his father had originally assigned to him. The rest of the universe had banded together, as had the secret groups, which assimilated into a single Rebellion. The Rebellion was now quite open with its activities, except for the plan to assassinate Lord Cooler."

Vejita smirked. "But that didn't happen."

Creogin laughed. "You knew more of this than you thought you did." He took another sip of his drink. "The reports that Cooler was dead were barely believable. No one could accept that they had been that lucky. But the Ice-jin never showed up again, and it was with fervor that the Rebellion acted to dissimilate all the remaining Kold forces. The dead empire's warriors were now very much divided because their loyalty was now with the hundreds of lieutenants who commanded them, though after a short time many soldiers abandoned their battalions for independent purposes. The separate factions were unable to find solidarity, so it was only a short time before the Rebellion had apprehended almost all of the Kolds' forces."

"I assume they were punished," Gohan said.

Creogin nodded. "Of course. The Kold reign had been a universal nightmare, and everyone demanded that their employees get what was coming to them. But the Rebellion, which had managed to form itself into the governmental Confederation, wanted to be careful with the consequences they dealt to the soldiers. Many things had to be taken into consideration. While some fighters were truly loyal to King Kold, Cooler, and Freeza, there was a considerable amount who had served them out of fear or to protect their kin. Many had even been raised in such a way that they could not comprehend the difference between right and wrong. It also needed to be determined how much damage each soldier had done, which wasn't too difficult considering that the Kold empire doubled as a business, so they were very particular about documentation and organization."

"What about the buyers?" Bulma spoke up. "The people who bought the planets from them?"

"Don't worry. The paperwork found on Kold bases was useful for that too. Buyers were put on trial along with the mercenaries." Creogin sighed and folded his arms in disapproval.  "But I'm sure you folks can't be too unfamiliar with corporate manipulation.  Most of the buyers were companies that managed to finagle their way out of charges.  Independent buyers were also very powerful, and had little trouble wheedling their way out of trouble.  No, it was the warriors who took most of the blame for what the Kold's had done."

"What happened to them all?" Gohan pressed.

"A minority that had experienced the forced compliance was dealt minor sentences, like short prison terms or an assigned time of missions of good will.  Most were not seen in a sympathetic light, and they received long or lifetime sentences.  Of course, any soldiers who had helped the Rebellion had greatly reduced consequences for their actions."

"What about death sentences?"

Creogin nodded. "Also a minority. That punishment was only used for the most unrepentant and dangerous of Kold soldiers.  There were many soldiers that were never found, however, and most of them were those most in danger of receiving the highest condemnation." He glanced at Vejita at this point, but quickly looked away and continued on. "Of course, all the trials of the soldiers in captivity took years. I believe they finally finished about ten years ago, though they are always on the lookout for fugitives, even today."

Serive frowned and looked over at the Saiyajin Prince. "That's not good at all."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Creogin said, "unless there are still people who would recognize him."

"I'm sure he's left a lasting impression on many," she scoffed, ignoring Vejita's scowl.  "Well, I suppose we'll be fine.  I mean, how can they capture warriors as powerful as him?"

"They have ways," Creogin cautioned.  "The Confederation is not foolish; they realized they needed a way to stand against powerful fighters, and still have an entire department dedicated to energy-quelling solutions."

"… You're kidding, right?" Serive asked.  "You can't just suppress energy!"

"You would think that," Creogin replied, "but the government knew that there had to be a way to apprehend strong warriors, and brought the greatest minds together to come up with a solution." He shrugged. "Wouldn't you know it, you can suppress energy."

Trunks snorted. "Looks like we finally got to the part that's gonna screw us over later."

"Anyway," Creogin went on, despite the many unnerved expressions staring back at him, "while the soldiers were being taken care of, the Confederation was also concentrating on rebuilding a free universe, through such tasks as returning sold planets to anyone who was left to inherit, encouraging free trade and enterprise, or restoring any damaged ecology.  People of all species were so eager to have peaceful, good lives that prosperity came quickly and hasn't wavered much since." Creogin sighed. "You know, you might not run into much trouble. People are so eager to forget about that terrible reign, they might just pretend they never saw you, especially since you haven't made a peep in the last thirty years or so. All of Freeza's bases were destroyed, almost all the companies that affiliated themselves with him- willingly or not- changed their names, and space pods aren't even manufactured anymore."

Serive laughed bitterly. "Oh, believe me, I'm well aware of that last part. Hmph. At least it was cheap. The new solitary travel crafts cost quite a bit when merchandisers have to come into dangerous areas."

"Well, perhaps if your race was more open to technology, you would have already had ships to use," Creogin pointed out.

Serive glared at him. "And maybe if your kind had been more aware of current events, they would still be--"

"WELL!" Bra chimed in over-exuberantly. "That's some pretty interesting history!" She nudged her father with her elbow. "You know, 'Tousan, maybe the Confederation wouldn't be so eager to prosecute you if they knew about you helping to get rid of Cooler. I mean, if it weren't for you and Goku-san, the Confederation might not even exist today!"

"Well, you'd have to be able to prove that he helped with that," Creogin replied.

Paresu had paid much attention to the kind creature's retelling of the empire's aftermath. Goten had barely mentioned it. It was only now that she understood Vejita-san's former life. He had killed people, planet-loads of them. He must have done so for years upon years for everyone to be so concerned about an outstanding warrant. A genocidal murderer.  She squeezed Goten's arm and leaned over so her lips were by his ear. "You didn't tell me Vejita-san was so dangerous, Goten-kun." she whispered.

Goten hushed her, but the prince had heard her fearful comment clearly. Vejita stood up. "Is there any place where I can train with my daughter?" he asked abruptly.

"Well, off to the east there are some flat plains that are never really used for anything. I suppose there would be fine, as long as you're careful."

Vejita nodded quickly and walked over to the door, gesturing for Bra to follow him. "Let's go," he grunted, noticing how Paresu stared at him with a meek expression.

"Well, alright." Bra obeyed and followed him outside.

Bulma smiled apologetically.  "Sorry, Creogin, about his… brusqueness.  Vejita doesn't really like talking about anything to do with Freeza."

Creogin smiled to himself and picked up his glass. "No one does," he said simply, before taking a gulp.

Her father was definitely being more aggressive in their training, and Bra was a bit surprised at how Creogin's narrative had gotten to him.  Was he really that regretful, or was he just unknowingly regressing  into the state of mind he once had?  Or maybe he was unnerved that he might have a warrant on his head and the police force actually had ways of dealing with powerful felons?

Well, whatever the reason, Bra thought it was good for their physical training sessions.  Despite Vejita's guarantee that he wouldn't baby her, she had noticed that in their previous fights he wasn't as tough on her as he could have been.  Now, though, his punches and kicks were a bit more forceful and somewhat faster.  Bra had definitely developed a Saiyajin's desire for a challenge ever since they began her training, so even though  she was getting more beat up than usual, she was enjoying it.

She understood so much now.  She finally knew what people meant when they claimed their hearts sang and their spirits soared…

========================================

"Trunks?"

"Yeah? What?"  Her brother towered over her as he toweled the sweat off his face.

But his height never made her feel insignificant, even if she was sitting on the floor as she was now.  Her papa had once told her that just because someone was taller, it did not mean that you were not just as great or greater.

"Why do you like fighting so much?"

He shrugged.  "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because it hurts and you get all icky and there's no point," Bra replied simply.  She scribbled with her crayons on some paper.  A stuffed elephant sat next to her.  "Why should you fight?"

"It's a heritage thing, really."

"Her-a-tige?" Bra repeated slowly.  She was fairly intelligent for a seven-year-old, but she'd never heard the word before.

"Heritage is, like, the traditions and customs of relatives that were alive long ago."

"Ooooh…"  She picked up a yellow crayon to add a sun in the corner of her picture.  "So you fight because they did?"

"Not really…  I fight because I take the same enjoyment from fighting that they did."

"How come I don't? I have the same heratige that you do."

"Maybe it's 'cause you're a girl."  She frowned at him and he laughed.  "Kidding.  I'm sure if you got into it, you'd like it."

"I don't like getting hit."

"It's more than that," he said, kneeling down to watch her scrawl.  "When I fight, it's like there's electricity in my blood that doesn't go away no matter how much ki I use.  And I don't want to stop until my opponent is defeated.  Even if I'm completely outclassed, I feel like I'm going to live forever."

She looked up from her picture. "… I still don't get it."

He smiled at her and mussed her hair.  "You might one day."

The gravity chamber door opened behind them and a short yet authoritative figure stepped into the hallway.

"Papa!"  Bra hopped to her feet with her picture in one hand and her stuffed animal in the other.

Vejita reflexively knelt down and caught her when she leaped to him.  He straightened and she held up her picture for him to see.

"See, Papa?"  She pointed to each object.  "This is our house and this is my swingset and this is me and this is you and this is Mama and this is Trunks!"  She looked down at her elephant.  "Oh, and Lua wants to give you a kiss," she added, brushing the fuzzy trunk across her father's cheek.  She quickly commanded his attention back to her drawing.  "I like the colors."

Vejita nodded, face still tinged red from the stuffed toy's affection, and as Bra examined her creation with pride he spoke to Trunks.  "Your progress is lacking."

Trunks purple brows furrowed.  "I'm sorry, 'Tousan.  Okaasan is really upping my office hours.  She really wants to retire soon.  I don't have much time for training anymore."

"Hn."  Vejita frowned.

Bra noticed her papa's expression and copied it.  She shook her head at her brother.  "What about your herry-tige, Trunks?"

Her brother's face turned noticeably red and he gave his little sister a look. He obviously didn't have an answer for her.

But their father did.  "Trunks' Saiyajin heritage isn't the only ancestry he has.  You both also have human heritage: your grandfather's legacy of a successful company based on diligence and intelligence.  Trunks just had to choose between them, and Capsule Corporation is much more suited to Earth life."  It sounded like the speech was directed not only to his children, but also to himself.

The young girl was not ignorant of her papa's subdued disappointment.  She looked down at the crayon masterpiece still clutched in her hand and held it up to her father again.  "You can have my picture, Papa," she offered.

"Hm?" Vejita looked at the picture and smirked.  "Oh, no, I wouldn't dare take such a magnificent piece."

"Take it!" she insisted.  "I can make another one."

Having no such condolence to offer his father, Trunks coughed nervously.  "I have to go.  Okaasan is waiting for me in her lab."  He quickly left.

Still holding her drawing, Bra leaned in close to her father and smiled.  "Papa, how about you make a drawing for me and we can trade?" she coaxed, eager for her father to accept her gift.

He laughed lightly and set her down.  "No, I'm going back into the gravity room to train for a bit more."

Bra glared at him.  She knew that really meant he wouldn't be out until supper.  Stupid Trunks.  He made her father sad, and now he wanted to be alone.  Bra didn't understand that concept.  When she was sad she went to her Papa or her Mama, but Papa reacted differently.  She didn't understand how anyone could get through sadness by being alone, therefore she concluded that his behavior wasn't good.

Not to mention that it always bothered her that he wouldn't accept her little presents.

"Don't give me that look," Vejita half-heartedly chided.  "We'll do something later."  He moved across the hall and opened the bathroom door.  "Be a good girl.  Go play with your dolls," he suggested before stepping in and closing the door.

Bra kept her angry expression and looked down at her drawing again.  Her mood lightened when she remembered that he had at least seemed pleased with it, as he did whenever she tried to present him with something.  Maybe it would make him feel better if he would just keep it around.

Bra reached into her pocket and pulled out a wrapped stick of chewing gum her Mama had given her earlier.  She removed the silver foil from it and popped it into her mouth.  She chewed vigorously and stepped into the open gravity chamber, setting her picture face down on the floor.  She stood for a few moments, and when she was sure the gum was moist and elastic, she pulled it from her mouth and tore it into two pieces.  She placed one pink glob on each of the top corners, and then she picked it up and pressed her art to the gravity room wall.  Hearing the toilet flush, Bra hurried from the room, hoping her papa would be happy with the surprise.

All days after, Papa always accepted Bra's gifts.

========================================

Pain was no stranger to the soldiers' lives. Whether it was theirs or another's, anguish was always horribly present. Some ignored it; they carried out their orders as quickly as they could. Others reveled in it, causing more pain to sedate their own, going as far as possible until their victim died, then searching for another, preferably more innocent than the last.

They indulged their anger and humiliation by tearing out screams from men, women, and children. It was so easy to get lost in the howls, to be caught up in the thrill of control, but oddly enough the obvious pain in the writhing forms was never prominent. Its existence was present in a warrior's mind, but he or she could never feel it. The mercenaries were numb to all angst but their own. They would vent their ire and fear endlessly to the point of madness, but the pain was always theirs in the end. It hadn't gone away. It never would. It was a permanent mark.

Vejita would never tell anyone of what it was like. Everyone he knew now would never understand what it was like to be in Freeza's ranks. How he could still feel those horrible thoughts and feelings somewhere deep inside him, in a place where he had banished many things about himself years ago.  Many Earthlings believed that things like pain and hate subsided over time, and there was no doubt that they figured he was completely done with that book of his life.  But it was a book he often reread, no matter how much he hated it.

_"You didn't tell me Vejita-san was so dangerous, Goten-kun."_

Why did it bother him that Goten's silly mate was afraid of him? When he was younger, fear made him proud. It meant he was strong, and strength was everything.  Of course, that was probably it.  Strength was still important to him, but only because he had a family to take care of now.  It was only necessary for enemies to fear him, not for innocent girls like Paresu.

The terror of an innocent girl… A memory came back to him, a strange one of a time back when he was young.  One of the few times back then when fear of him had unnerved him…

When he felt his mind going back to those days, those old, red days, he tried his best to occupy himself with anything else.  Training with Bra had only amplified his thoughts, and in turn he was much harder on her than he probably should have been.  Of course, it was probably good for her; Vejita knew he babied her too much.  He had never been that way with Trunks, though of course things with the boy had been much different.

Speaking of the boy, he was alone in the control room when the prince wandered in, expecting Bulma to be there.  He had left her without his protection for far too long.  He knew she was probably fine, as Serive had no reason to harm her, but he still felt uncomfortable leaving his wife alone in their precarious situation without his supervision.

"Hey, Otousan!" Trunks greeted him.

"Where's your okaasan?" Vejita asked.

"Eating dinner." He watched Vejita wipe his face with a towel. "Or maybe bandaging Bra. How did it go?" he said skeptically.

"I didn't go as easy on her as I thought I would, but she took it. She's persistent."

"As is the genetic trend."

Vejita chuckled. "She's still hurting though. I'm probably going to get an earful later about the cuts and burns."

As if on cue, the wail of a familiar voice echoed throughout the ship. "NO MORE BACTIIIIIINNE!!!"

Trunks shook his head while his father sweatdropped guiltily. "This is gonna be a long trip," he snorted as he brought up screens and made notes on a clipboard.

Vejita raised an eyebrow at his son's back. "You don't think she can do it?"

"It's Bra," Trunks said simply.

"I think she'll surprise you."

"Whatever," Trunks muttered dismissively, bending more over his notes.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-OW!!" Bra shrieked.

"Oh, calm down!" Bulma exclaimed. She set the antiseptic-soaked cloth on the counter and began to wrap the burn. "I'm going to have a word with your otousan. This is a little too rough for my tastes."

"He wouldn't have gone any further than he thought I could handle!" Bra defended. "I can't improve if he babies me!"

Bulma frowned as the abrasion vanished beneath the bandaging. "Even so. You're just starting out. You're not your brother."

"There's little time to take it easy," Bra pointed out. "And while I whole-heartedly agree that I'm NOT Trunks-" she mentioned the comparison with distaste- "I am half-Saiyajin, aren't I? I can do this."

Bulma glanced up at her daughter, who held her chin high with what was apparently Saiyajin pride. "I guess so," Bulma said, shaking her head but smiling. She taped up the bandage and moved to a cut on Bra's calf.

"No more…" Bra whined when her mother reached for the bactine again. It seemed Saiyajin bravery hadn't caught up with the arrogance yet.

Bulma smirked and said innocently, "Oh, I don't remember Trunks being such a baby when I would bandage him."

Bra didn't make another sound.

"'Tousan, what Serive said before…" Trunks stared at the floor, biting his lip. Should he continue? It was such a sensitive subject. But it had been stuck in his mind for so long now, and if he were to get any impression of his father from it, he would rather it be true and not speculation.

Vejita stared at his son blankly. "She's run her mouth a lot. What are you referring to?"

"About… how you and mom were consensual."

Vejita's chest suddenly felt very tight and he felt his face harden. "What could you possibly want to know about that?"

Trunks raised his head and looked his father in the eye. "I'm not stupid, Otousan. I know that a life of purging planets isn't all fine and dandy. I know that you've done things that don't necessarily make you proud today." He gripped Vejita's shoulder and tried to smile. "I just want you to know that despite everything, you're still my father. I can tell that you've changed a lot since before I was born. I hope you know that I'm proud of you."

Vejita couldn't hold his son's gaze and ended up looking at the floor. He nodded slightly, and muttered, "Thanks."

Trunks lowered his hand. "Well, I'm going to get 'Kaasan so she can mind the controls while I get something to eat."  With that, the young man turned away.

Before Trunks move to the doorway, he heard his father say, "It's not an accusation I'm proud of," he suddenly snapped.

Trunks was taken aback at his father's reaction. He turned to face him. "'Tousan… You don't have to-"

"I want to explain." Vejita said, turning away. "If Serive is going to say what she wants about me, I'd rather have you know the truth."

"…Okay."

"It only happened once, and it was while Serive was still working for Freeza.  It was on one of the few missions that Nappa, Raditz, and I were sent with other soldiers to purge a planet.  After we were finished, the other members of the group decided to celebrate on a job well done. Liquor was highly available on the planet, and it was quickly dispersed to everyone.  Suddenly there were drinking challenges and everyone was… not quite themselves.  Then there were challenges about things other than drinking, and… Some very unlucky residents happened to be around during the binge…"

"Otousan-"

"I have never been boastful or proud about it," Vejita continued at a rushed pace. "I have always enjoyed fighting and have been proud of my skills in that area, but… taking advantage of someone was never remotely related to any of my intentions.  I am far too aware of how it feels to be humiliated and exploited."

It was quiet for a moment, as Trunks considered his father's words and how he should respond, if at all.  Finally, he said, "I understand, 'Tousan. I… I hope you felt better getting it off your chest."

"I haven't told you it yet."

"Huh?"

"I never had a taste for alcohol. Turns people into jibbering idiots, so I didn't have nearly as much as the other soldiers. I wasn't compliant when a dare was given to me, but Nappa- the drunken fool- was more than happy to push me into a closed off room with a young girl.  I didn't want to do anything with her, but because of the liquor I didn't really think to just walk out.  She, however, thought I was going to… take her. She started screaming hysterically, even though I just stood there and stared at her. I didn't know how to make her stop, so I just held my ears and prayed her voice would give out. The whole ordeal with the planet purge must have caused her to completely lose her mind; she screamed until she finally passed out." His gaze was even with his son's but the flicker in his eyes gave away the uneasiness most would have with such a story.

Trunks believed him, but he didn't understand. "But if you didn't do anything, then why would Serive say that?"

Vejita looked away. "Reputation was very important. Letting the other men think I'd done to that girl whatever they liked to think I had done, saved me from future harassment."

"I see.." Trunks muttered, biting his lip. His expression openly revealed that the truth-- while it was more favorable than the story he thought he'd hear-- still disturbed him. His father had felt it was necessary to pretend to rape the girl instead of just forgetting what the other warriors thought. He thought it more like his father to correct the other men's assumptions and call them weak for giving into sexual urges, not for him to give into conformity.

Then again, how much did he really know about his father at all?

Vejita didn't go on, so after a few moments the half-Saiyajin turned to leave the room.

"Trunks."

The son stopped again and turned back to his father. "Yes, Otousan?"

"Nothing happened then, but many different things happened before and after.  Whatever happens out here…" Vejita's eyes were focused on something very far away, some scene he could only see in his mind. "Make sure it stays out here."

Trunks stared at his father, easily understanding what he meant. Finally he answered with "Yes, Otousan."

The temporary repairs hadn't taken long, so the visit to Elufer was a short one.  Gohan and Bulma sat in their seats on the bridge preparing for take-off.  Bulma made an announcement through the speaker system that all the passengers should make their way to the control room.

Gohan had smile on his face, and Bulma didn't know why.  She stared at him for a few moments before he realized she was scrutinizing him.

"Sorry," he chuckled.  "I was just thinking that Krillin should have come along.  Woulda been like the old days."

"Heh."  Bulma leaned back in her chair.  "The old days," she repeated with a grin.  "You were only a chibi back then."

"Time flies…"

"I'll say," she agreed. "It's been, what, thirty years?"

"About that," Gohan agreed. "Heh, back then who would have guessed you would have two kids with the enemy who almost slaughtered my 'Tousan?"

Bulma laughed. "Who knew? And back then who knew that you'd be teaching at a university with a doctorate?"

"Ha!" Gohan grinned. "I had a pretty good idea I'd be doing something like this. Okaasan would never have it any other way."

"True," Bulma said nodding. "Well, thank God you know so much about medicine," she commented.  "I know a bit, but my area is more mechanical than biological, you know?"

Gohan nodded, "Yeah. At least with a medical officer you won't have to worry about doing a bunch of jobs at once."

"Yeah, now all I have to worry about is the danger we're all in."

"Nah, we'll be fine," Gohan tried to assure her, but his eyes turned back to the panel as he pretended to review the diagnostics.

Bulma easily saw through the unconvincing façade, but she played along.  "Oh, yeah, we'll kick Kouruji's ass," she said with a smile.

Gohan laughed.  "Most definitely."

"No doubt about it."

"For sure."

"Absolutely!"

"Positively."

"Oh, man," Bulma snickered, covering her face with her hand.

"Yeah, we might be screwed on this one," Gohan admitted.

"Well," Bulma sighed, looking up at him and giving him a true smile, "we'll deal, right?"

"Right," Gohan nodded, returning the sincere grin.

"Let's launch this puppy."

"Team Dragonball has to get here first."

Bulma was nearly guffawing. She activated the intercom system and leaned towards the mic. "Team Dragonball, get your asses in here!" she exclaimed.

Elsewhere on the ship, Serive looked at Jinja and said, "What?"

Ghelain was sitting in the fueling station's small communications room when Creogin found him. The younger Lauvernian's disappointment with his elder was still thick between them, and Creogin sighed.

"We cannot fully heal if we hold onto our hate," he reminded his sibling in their native language.

"How can I heal when those who have wounded us are not punished?" Ghelain replied quietly as he prepared the day's report.

"They were not responsible for our pain."

"If they had been assigned to Lauvern, the outcome would have stayed the same."

"How long will you be angry with me?"

"Not very long."

Lauvern was quiet. "As your superior, I order you to refrain from mentioning their presence to the Confederation forces."

Ghelain stood up so quickly that his chair fell over. He should have known his wise brother would suspect his intentions. "Do you have any sense of justice at all?!"

"Do you have the strength to rise above your pain?"

"You could speak of rising above pain all day, and I will never understand. You've spoken of it for the last fifty years, and your words have been useless." The younger sneered and righted the chair. "Such droning is nothing to me," he finished, sitting back down.

"Will you at least follow my order?"

Ghelain was still for a moment. Then his form hunched a bit. "Of course, Brother."

"Thank you."

Ghelain listened to his brother's soft footsteps until they faded away. His returned his hard gaze to the report on his screen, and his sight immediately latched onto the words, "EXCEPTIONAL EVENTS." He stared for a moment, then placed his hands on the keyboard and began to type. He finished his addendum quickly, and then sent it off to be reviewed.

Elufer was one of quite a few refueling stations under Lio Enterprises, so the report was unseen for one week. Eleven minutes after a reviewer selected it from the incoming files, it was sent to the Confederation with an urgent message highlighting a specific sentence:

"…A member of the party was a Saiyajin who went by the name of Vejita…"

---------------------------------------

And that's chapter 20! Woooooooooooooooooooooo! Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if you did! Seriously. At least let me know someone is reading this. That'd be nice. Uwah..


	15. Chapter Thirteen: Trickery

Disclaimer: All I own is the story itself.

Author's Notes: This thing is LONG. About 23 pages or so in MS Word. Oi. The plot of the chapter is greatly owed to either Chibi K or ParesuCeres from the short-lived Paresu message board. Oh, we loved her, but alas we were not enough. ;; Anyway, yeah, I don't remember which one suggested the plot, so my apologies if they happen to read this and are offended. ;; For all I know it was neither of them. ;x Those message boards died a loooong time ago, back when I first started this story. So, like, three years ago. Holy crap.

Chapter 13: Trickery

The staff of Elufer had only been odd to Paresu in comparison to the physiology she was used to seeing on intelligent beings. Overall, they were the same humanoid shape as those on Earth, so she had only been nervous until Creogin attempted to create a more relaxed atmosphere. She had felt bad for judging them-- even though Ghelain and Cinkame had purposely been hostile-- and resolved to try to be more open-minded on their journey. After all, if she was going to spend the rest of her life with Goten, she would have to, wouldn't she?

That resolution was rapidly crumbling as she stared at the residents of Svaeg. When they had first landed amidst piles of scrap metal and other assorted trash, none had been around to greet them. They had exited the ship and heard clanking noises and strange gibberish, as if someone were sorting through the junk. Trunks had called out, asking if anyone could help them, and three beings had peeked out from behind the pile straight ahead of them. They couldn't see the Svaegians' faces; they were concealed beneath their brown hoods. Fanning herself with her hand, Paresu supposed that they would have to conceal themselves from this blazing sun. She would have to go back aboard the ship eventually or else she'd burn. Serive raised a hand in greeting, and the center being looked at its companions, said a few words and began to approach them from the pile, revealing itself. At first all seemed normal to Paresu; it reached out with covered arms and black gloved hands to move aside some sharp shards; it had only four fingers, which was nothing to be concerned about. But she had to suppress a scream when it crawled over the pile on six spider legs, all covered with thick, shiny black fur. Paresu found herself taking refuge behind Goten, digging her nails into his shoulders. He glanced at her over his shoulder, and Paresu could see that while he was intrigued with these new creatures, he was no where near frightened like her. In fact, she was the only one who seemed afraid; the others were completely unfazed or just merely surprised. Remembering not to judge, she loosened her grip on her fiancé and took a baby step to the side so she wasn't cowering completely behind him.

"We were told you could help us," Serive said, looking down at the Svaegian. Crouched on its insect-like legs, it was two feet or so shorter than her.

It recompensed this by straightening its lower limbs so it was face to face with the Wycanian. "Chiila guanoda yi?"

Serive blanched. "Don't you speak any standard??"

Though its eyes were cloaked beneath its hood, it seemed to stare at her. "Chiila?" it repeated with its high, scratchy voice.

The Wycanian princess only stared blankly at it and sweatdropped.

The Svaegan apparently didn't feel it necessary to keep up communication if they couldn't understand each other, and it scuttled off back to the other side of the pile it had been rummaging through with its colleagues.

"Hey!" Serive yelled indignantly at being dismissed so easily. She chased after it, shouting for it to come back.

The others idly followed, sensing that this could take a while.

-----

"We.. need.. strong.. metal!" Serive said loudly to the being. She had to bend down in order to look it in the eye, and even then its face was a few inches below hers. "Endoskeleton!" she reiterated, snatching up a bit of scrap. It was a smooth pyramid-like piece of junk, but it was missing its bottom and the frame could be seen inside. Serive tapped the frame with her nail. "Eh?"

Bra sweatdropped. "This is taking forever." They must've been standing there for at least twenty minutes.

Paresu sighed, tired of watching Serive's useless efforts. She looked back to the ship and thought that maybe she should take refuge from the sun. As she stared back at the craft, she narrowed her eyes and frowned.

Bulma sighed. "How strange that none of them can speak any Standard," she muttered.

Gohan nodded. "Yeah. It's not like their species were created yesterday or anything."

"I guess they're pretty isolated, though," Goten pointed out as he watched Serive attempt a crude sign language. Paresu was tugging on his shirt, but he was too interested in the game of charades. The Wycanian's gestures were becoming more and more elaborate. "I mean, didn't Creogin say that we're out in the boonies? We're not too far from home."

"We're not too far from the more traveled areas either," Vejita replied, amused and annoyed with the presentation at the same time.

"Oi, Goten-kun," Paresu said, trying to get her fiance's attention.

Bra shuddered. "I can't wait to leave. They look so… creepy." She scrunched her nose in distaste at the Svaegan's spider-like legs.

"Hey, maybe they think you're kinda freaky-looking," Trunks spoke up.

"Goten!" Paresu spoke more urgently now.

Goten patted her shoulder but kept watching Serive. "Hold on, Paresu. I think we're getting somewhere." Serive and the being finally began exchanging nods, but then the creature showed her a piece of scrap and the princess shook her head.

Bra folded her arms and held her chin up high rather haughtily. "Freaky?" she repeated to her brother with a laugh. "I doubt they're looking at me and thinking that. They're probably busy staring at you. You're the ugliest one here."

"Goten!!" Paresu finally snapped, shaking him. She pointed to their ship. "Those spider-people-thingies are crawling all over MARC!!"

"What?" Goten exclaimed, spinning around just as the others did. Sure enough, multiple Svaegans were creeping about the ship's exterior, and they all froze with their yellow eyes wide at the realization they'd been caught.

"Hey! Get down from there!" Trunks shouted, waving his arms as he flew up and over to their craft. The curious Svaegans quickly scuttled away, leaping off the ship and onto surrounding junk piles.

Goten had followed Trunks quickly, and they both stood on top of the craft. Neither saw any more of the creatures, and so they returned to the group.

"They didn't seem to do any harm," Trunks commented.

Serive seemed to suspect otherwise. "What were they doing on our ship?" Serive growled at the Svaegan she'd been trying to converse with.

The creature only stared at her blankly, obviously still unable to understand her.

Serive let loose a scream of frustration. "This is a waste of time!!" she snapped, earning a flinch from the alien. "We're just going to have to go somewhere else!"

"And where would that be?" Gohan asked.

"Anywhere but here!" Serive barked. She pointed to the ship. "We're leaving. NOW." A black appendage tapped her on the shoulder and she turned back to the Svaegan. He offered her one of the pieces of junk, apparently thinking it would calm her. Serive sneered at the gift and pointed her finger in the creature's face, about to let him have it, even if he couldn't understand it. Before she could scream another word, there was an echoing metallic noise from the ship.

Trunks and Goten rushed back to MARC again to see a trio of Svaegans standing on the side of the ship around the door of the supply hold. Two of them had what looked like crowbars.

"HEY!" Goten yelled.

Trunks sent mild blasts at them to scare them off, and he succeeded. The three scattered away, dropping the metal bars.

"They were trying to take our stuff!" Goten exclaimed in surprised offense.

"WHAT?!" Serive snapped. The two young men turned to see that the group had followed them, as had the Svaegan they'd chosen for an ambassador. Serive snatched the gift from the creature's hands and chucked it into one of the trash mounds. "You little bastard!" she snapped, pulled back a ki-filled hand.

Quick as lightning, the Svaegan zipped of on its multiple legs before it could be punished.

Serive threw the ki ball into the distance. "Let's GO," she ordered over the far-off explosion.

-----

The Svaegans watched as the ship took off. The leader turned to its brethren and said in perfect Standard, "That was close. So, what did you smuggle off their ship?"

-----

MARC continued on the path towards Wycan. The next hour or so was spent in silence. Each effort by Gohan or Trunks or Bulma to ask Serive where they were going to go now to repair the ship leg was quickly shushed with a glower or growl from the irritated Wycanian princess. Things were not going as smoothly as she had hoped. Even though she had not expected things to go perfect, she certainly hadn't thought that anything would go wrong with their transportation. It was impeding their progress, and they needed to get it fixed as soon as possible. Serive sat in one of the passenger seats of the ships control room. She had it swiveled facing the wall rather the window over the control panel as she pondered what planets weren't too out of the way that they could stop at.

Bulma had been deep in thought since they had left Svaeg also. Something hadn't seemed right with the ship when they took off. At first she suspected that it was just the damaged landing gear, but as time passed she knew that wasn't it. Something was different.

"Something is wrong," Bulma said, getting up from her seat at the main panel.

"What do you mean?" Bra asked, giving her a curious expression. She was sitting near Serive with a clipboard and sketching the princess on the back of some diagnostic sheets.

"It's been bothering me since we took off." Bulma frowned and headed for the door. "We feel… lighter."

"This is a huge ship," Gohan said. "How can you tell?"

"I've been testing all kinds of transportation for years, including spaceships," Bulma retorted. "I know what I'm talking about. Somehow, it was a bit easier for MARC to get through the atmosphere." She left the room, not caring if anyone followed her. She walked through the hall until she got to the elevator doors. She entered the elevator, and when she turned she saw Vejita, Serive, and Trunks get in with her. Satisfied that Gohan would be able to handle things for a moment, she closed the door and sent the lift down to the bottom floor. When the doors opened all four gasped.

There couldn't be more than a quarter of their supplies left in the cargo hold. The majority of their supplies was simply gone.

"What the HELL?" Serive snapped, stalking out of the elevator and into the middle of the large room. She gestured helplessly to the low stacks of crates that had previously reached the ceiling when they had stocked it.

"The Svaegans," Vejita growled.

Trunks smacked himself in the head. "They weren't trying to open the hatch!" he cried in revelation. "They were closing it!"

Vejita smirked and cupped his fist with the opposite hand. "Well, then. Let's turn around and get it all back."

Serive shook her head. "We've already lost enough time having to stop there in the first place."

"What?" Vejita snarled. "What do you expect us to do?! Do you have any idea how much we need to eat? It won't do you any good to have warriors dying from starvation!"

"I'll think of something!" Serive snapped. "We have to keep moving towards Wycan."

"This is ridiculous!" Vejita growled.

"Don't push me, Vejita!"

"For the love of…" Trunks got between the two and held up his hands as a cue for them to be quiet. "Let's not make things worse by arguing." He lowered his hands and glared at Serive. "Alright, we didn't accomplish our goal of repairing the landing gear, and now we only have enough food for maybe five more meals, maybe a few more if we stretch it." Trunks folded his arms and looked at her expectantly. "Since you've forcefully appointed yourself as our leader, what do you propose we do?"

Serive sneered back at his sarcasm, but resigned herself to a moment of thought. "How much longer do you think the leg will hold up, Bulma?"

Bulma looked away from the diminished supplies and answered, "I looked at the leg when we landed. It might be able to stand one more descent."

"Do we really need it?"

"The craft was designed so that its weight was evenly disbursed on the five legs. If we lose one, the weight will be unevenly distributed and put more pressure on the remaining legs. We might be able to pull such a landing off once, but I wouldn't risk it. The ship could be irreparably damaged if it collapses, and we'd be stranded."

Serive pondered to herself some more, then announced her decision. "We'll have to keep traveling until we find an inhabited planet that can help us out. We'll get some money to pay for the repairs and buy more food."

"And how will we get that money?" Trunks asked.

Serive laughed. "How do you think? We don't have time to work off a massive debt. We'll have to steal it or steal valuable things to sell in some kind of pawn shop."

Trunks gritted his teeth. "I am not lowering myself to crimes."

"Why not?" Serive retorted. "It's in your blood." She continued before any of them could speak. "Like you said, boy, I am in charge here. What I say goes if you want your mother to remain in good health."

And that was the end of the conversation.

-----

Serive pointed to a spot on the ship's celestial map. "This is Rattep," she said. The computer logged the name into its database, and displayed the name next to the planet's mark. "It's not far off of our current path, and they're advanced enough to be able to repair the ship." She turned back to the rest of MARC's passengers. "We land, we pick some affluent subjects, we rob them and knock them out, we pawn anything valuable, then take all the money and get the leg repaired before they wake up and point fingers at the visitors."

Paresu openly gaped. "You're going to steal?!"

"Yes, sweetheart," Serive said with mock placation. "I'm afraid hands are going to be dirtied."

Paresu wasn't oblivious to the sarcasm and frowned. "Can't we sell things we already have?"

"We can't afford to lose anything more. After repairing the leg I don't know how much will be left for more supplies."

"This all sounds like quite the temporary solution then," Trunks remarked pointedly.

Serive smiled sweetly at him and then looked to Paresu. "Well," she said, "we could probably fetch a fair price for this pretty girl, if you'd like."

"Hey!" Goten snapped, leaping to his feet in front of Paresu, who looked shocked at the implication.

Serive just kept speaking. "Hey, if we have time, maybe even several times over!"

Goten glared at her threateningly. "Apologize right now," he growled.

"I'm just making a suggestion, since your friend seems unsatisfied with what I've come up with," Serive replied. "And sit down before Bulma regrets your outburst."

Goten begrudgingly complied, and as he sat down, Bra spoke up.

"Well, if you're willing to go that far," she said lightly, "why don't you just do it yourself?" The discussion had easily progressed to the point where it reminded Bra of all the reasons why she shouldn't be so friendly with Serive. The rude comment to Paresu, who did not deserve it no matter what envy Bra had of her, had compelled Bra to defend the human.

The room was silent, but the instant tension was perfectly displayed by Serive's shocked expression, overlaid with a hint of betrayal in her eyes. Then her expression darkened and her gaze went to Bulma, who make a choked sound in her throat.

"Bra!" Vejita snapped disparagingly as he grabbed Bulma's shoulder.

"Repeat that," Serive hissed at Bra.

The Briefs girl's face paled like her mother's face and she immediately exclaimed, "I'm sorry! Please stop!"

Serive did so, and Bulma took in deep breaths of air now that she was allowed to breathe.

"It would seem that you all need severe reminders of exactly why I'm in charge on this ruined piece of shit!" Serive hollered, looking pointedly at Bulma. "I am NOT fucking kidding when I say that I WILL KILL HER if you don't do what I say!" She smashed her fist onto the main panel and glowered at the group. "And if you don't like the plans that I come up with, tough shit! I don't hear any ideas from you! As much as you all don't want to be here, you and this ship will follow through on my intentions!" Her burning gaze rested on Bra again. "Do you all understand?"

She was replied to with nods and murmurs.

"Good. You know the coordinates," she said to Bulma. "Get us there." She stalked from the room.

Ever the proud inventress, Bulma immediately hurried over to where Serive had pounded the main controls. Gohan and Trunks returned to their posts and Goten and Paresu went off to the galley. Vejita did not say where he was going when he left the room, but as he left he pointedly glared at his daughter, who remained in her seat and stared at the floor.

-----

It was a few hours before an automated voice announced that they were approaching Rattep, and the group gathered on the bridge and belted themselves into their seats. The experience of getting through the atmosphere passed easier than the first time on Elufer and the second time on Svaeg, and now there was the matter of where to land.

"No one has contacted us about landing yet," Serive commented with a frown.

"That's because when you had your little fit you destroyed the intercom," Bulma replied, clearly annoyed. She pointed to the crumpled speaker and buttons, which sparked as if on cue.

"Shit," Serive berated herself. She leaned forward in her seat and pointed to a spot on the ground near a building of many towers. "That looks like a landing strip. Land there."

Bulma followed the princess' directions, and again waited for the busted leg to collapse. It did not, but the groaning noise it made echoed throughout the ship.

"I hope we can get enough money," Bulma mumbled, undoing her seatbelt.

-----

As the group departed the ship, they were approached by a quite irate being that looked to be pretty much human.

"He looks pissed …" Trunks murmured.

The figure, as it stalked closer, was revealed to exactly resemble a human being. He was well built: fairly tall and muscular. His skin was darkly tanned and he had long black hair tied back into a ponytail. A silver breast plate was strapped to his chest by metal straps around his back, and he wore tight red pants and white boots. Ebony eyebrows were drawn together, exaggerating his scowl as he glared at the group clustered before their ship.

"Who do you think you are?" he shouted. "You had no clearance to land here!" His eyes flickered to Paresu as she moved to cling on Goten's arm. "This landing run is only for…" He trailed off as his gaze focused on the model, looking her over with widening eyes. "…royalty…" he finished softly. He fell on one knee with both arms crossed across his chest and head bowed. "Princess Tradvenuer!" he said, half-panicked and half-pleading. "Forgive me! I did not know it was you!"

The group glanced at one another, at Paresu, then back at the man, who stood up from his kneel. He thrust his hands out in an enthusiastic gesture.

"King Nobrust will be ecstatic to see you safe and well!" He turned a bit back towards a building in the distance and laughed. "And the rest of you may be just as happy about the reward!" He ran off towards the structure.

The eight he left behind stared.

"Um… exactly what was that about?" Goten spoke up.

"Seems that Rattep was recently missing a princess," Vejita said.

"Who looks just like Paresu," Serive added in an intrigued tone that suggested the gears in her head were cranking.

"Well, someone will just have to tell them that they're mistaken," Paresu said simply.

Serive turned to the brunette. "Oh, no," she contradicted with a smirk. "We're going to return their princess, get the reward, and have our ship repaired at the same time."

"WHAT?!" Goten's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

Gohan glared. "We're not leaving her here!"

Serive rolled her eyes. "Don't fret. We'll just sneak her aboard the ship before we leave, and we'll be gone before they notice!"

"Wait just a minute!" Paresu spoke up angrily. "First you want everyone to steal, and now you want me to LIE?"

"Yeah."

"I can't do that! I haven't lied about a thing in my life!"

"Well, now is the time to start." Serive pointed at the figures rapidly approaching from the far-off building. The man had returned, now jogging beside a large, rotund figure dressed in formal yellow and blue attire. "If you don't, who knows how we'll ever get the ship fixed without any money?"

Paresu bit her lip. "But, I…" She wasn't sure what to do. She didn't want to trick these people at all, but if they didn't get their spaceship fixed who knew when they'd get off this planet? She looked to Goten, but he only stared back with a fixed, clueless, panicked expression.

"You have amnesia," Serive whispered to Paresu as the two came closer. "You only remember waking up in our ship two days ago."

"But-" the human was cut off when the huge man swept her up into a life-threatening bear hug, hoisting her up and pressing her against his chest. She came face to face with a pearly grin underscored by a double chin and padded with chubby cheeks. An orange mustache, with tips that curled at his cheeks, twitched under his stubby nose, and matching red hair was surrounded by a gold, jeweled crown that was bright like his eyes.

"Oh, Tradvenuer, my dear!" his jolly voice boomed into Paresu's face. "We've been so worried!"

"Um…" She fidgeted in the tight embrace. "Have you?" she blurted with a nervous laugh.

"What's wrong?" said the king with a chuckle. "You act like you don't know me."

"I'm afraid she has lost her memory, Your Highness," Serive spoke up with a small bow. "We found her on Renlak a couple days ago."

"How did you know to bring her here?" the dark-haired servant asked suspiciously.

"We didn't," was Serive's reply. "We were forced to land here due to complications in our ship."

The huge ruler frowned. "Amnesia… Well, that poses as quite a problem."

"It does?" Paresu said meekly as she was finally set down.

"No worries!" Nobrust suddenly exclaimed. "I'm sure your memories will return soon." He turned to the attendant. "Viarato, take my daughter and these fine people to the parlor while I get Cysamthetip and Dreob." Another massive smile to his supposed daughter. "Your mother and sister will be so happy to see you!" he bellowed before turning and going back towards the far building.

-----

They were lead through the Rattep Royal Aviation Center, which had been partly built into a boisterous hill. Viarato then escorted them through a tunnel that took them through the landscape, and they emerged at a back entrance to a huge castle. It seemed fairly ordinary as castles go, despite the odd combination of a stone fabrication and technological accommodations.

Viarato guided the group through ten minutes worth of seemingly endless corridors, then finally stopped and pushed open a set of narrow, towering doors to reveal an intricately furnished room. Paintings half the height of the doors hung on the walls, which were lined with panels with beautifully detailed carvings. A fireplace as tall as Gohan was set in the far wall, drawing attention to the picture that was set above it.

It was a portrait of the royal family that had been painted with such agonizing attention that it could be mistaken for a photograph. The spherical king stood in the top left corner in the same garments and grin they'd seen him in previously. His arm was around the slender shoulders of his much leaner queen. Her chestnut locks were pulled tightly back and little curly entrails were left to lay about the bun. Her pale face was angelic: a relaxed brow, soft dark eyes, an adorable nub of a nose, and a small polite smile above a pointed chin made up her pretty features. A smooth, long neck curved down to her shoulders, covered with the azure fabric of her dress. Her delicate hands rested on the slightly broader form of a young redhead. The girl could be considered thin, though not as much as her mother. Unlike her companions in the portrait, she did not smile. The line of her lips was straight, and her blue eyes were expressionless as she stared out from the painting in a forest-green gown. Beside her was…

Paresu. Well, not Paresu of course, but obviously the missing princess she had been mistaken for. Tradveneur had the same dark eyes, the same bright smile, the same cutely angled nose, the same roundish face. They had the same hair color, although the style differed. While one clump of Paresu's hair curved around her face, her counterpart's tresses parted on the side and hung straight until the tips rounded in at her shoulders. Tradvenuer wore a dark, mustard-colored gown with an elaborate black pattern stitched around the low, V-neck collar.

Viarato saw how everyone's eyes were stuck on the painting. "A close artistic friend of the Nobrust family painted that. It's become one of their most treasured possessions." He glanced at Paresu. "Perhaps it helps you remember?"

Paresu started, interrupted from her amazement at how identical she and the princess were. "Oh… uh… I'm afraid not…"

Viarato frowned. "It is your favorite painting."

A nervous laugh. "Is it?"

"Darling!"

All turned to the door to see that the King had arrived with his wife and daughter. The queen had her arms outstretched and quickly made her way to Paresu in large strides.

"Oh, sweetheart!" she exclaimed, bringing Paresu into a snug hug. "I was beginning to think I'd never see you again!" She held her "daughter" an arm's length away and looked her over. "And you're perfectly fine!" She laughed melodically.

"Yes. I'm okay…" Paresu replied nervously.

"What's the matter, dear?" she asked with concern.

"The amnesia, Cysamthetip," Nobrust reminded her.

The Queen raised a hand to her mouth. "Oh, that's right! I'm sorry, dear!" She took Paresu's hand in hers and gestured to the red-headed girl who stood by her father. "Well, this is your sister, Dreob."

Dreob looked emotionless, but her blue eyes scrutinized her warily. "Why did you come back?" she asked.

"Dreob!" Cysamthetip snapped. "What an awful thing to say!"

"I'm just saying, is all," Dreob replied calmly. "She left so eagerly, you'd think even without a memory she'd instinctually stay away."

Paresu blinked. "You mean I ran away?"

The king and queen visibly blanched, and one could swear that Nobrust elbowed his youngest daughter in the side.

"Yes…" Cysamthetip said hesitantly, before quickly adding, "but no one knows why."

"But it must've been pretty bad for me to just run off," Paresu argued.

"Perhaps," the king replied, "but once you remember it, I'm sure we can work it out!" He flashed Paresu an encouraging grin, but the way Dreob gave her father a sideways glance was not at all promising. "Now," Nobrust said, with obvious relief for a change in subject, "who is the head of this fine rescue group?"

Serive grinned. "I suppose that would be me."

Nobrust grasped the Wycanian's hand in both of his massive ones and shook excitedly. Bewildered, Serive was having trouble keeping her balance. "I don't know how to thank you!" Nobrust burst out. "We were so worried that she had been hurt, but you have returned dearest Tradvenuer to us safe and sound!"

Her "mother" gave Paresu's hand a tight squeeze, but the human girl didn't notice. She frowned as the king expressed his joy. For all she knew, the real Tradvenuer was out there somewhere in real danger. The true Rattepian princess could be laying somewhere dying, praying for someone to find her, but no one would, because with this charade, no one would be looking for her. Paresu bit her lip, wanting so badly to speak up with the truth, but if they didn't get off this planet, Serive would get upset and hurt Bulma.

"Not to be too forward, Highness," Serive began politely, "but although seeing you with something so precious back in your protection is enough of a reward, I must make a small request."

The king laughed, his amusement echoing throughout the room. "Anything at all! No reward is enough for this!"

"Well, our ship, you see," Serive said, "has come across misfortune, and if perhaps your mechanics could take a look-"

"Of course! Of course!" Nobrust interrupted with a wave of his hand signaling that she needn't say more. "I'll have my best men work on it for you. I'll even instruct them to make any necessary improvements!"

"Oh, I don't think improvements are necessary," Bulma spoke up, looking offended.

"Improvements will be fine." Serive still smiled, but her eyes had a bit of agitation.

"And," the king added, "there is quite the hefty reward sum for bringing back my lovely girl." He winked at Paresu, who blushed shyly. "We shall give it to you before you leave."

"Thank you very much, Your Majesty," Serive said gratefully with a small bow.

The group behind them watched the exchange with interest until someone on the side coughed warningly and got the other's attention. The five blinked in surprise when they saw Vejita bowing and looking at them pointedly, and they hurriedly followed suit, nervous that they were too late to pay respects for the favor.

The Rattepian king and queen did not seem to notice, but the bored and observant princess did and raised an eyebrow at their strange behavior.

"While I send my mechanics to work," the Nobrust said, "Viarato will escort you to the dining hall. After your meal, you're welcome to wander the grounds as you like until repairs are done." He took Paresu by the hand. "Come, dear, we have so little time."

"So little time for what?" Paresu asked.

The king paled a bit again, as if he had said too much, but he quickly recovered. "We just want you to recover your memory as soon as possible, dear. Even though we would like to give you time to settle in, the obligations of royalty are demanding."

"Oh?" Paresu replied curiously. "What do I do?"

"Oh, many, many things!" the queen interjected, taking her "daughter's" arm. "Come, come, we must attend to some of them now."

Paresu felt a bit panicked as the woman led her towards the door. She looked back at Goten, who looked as if he would follow her if Trunks was not seizing his sleeve. "But, but I…"

Cysamthetip stopped, noticing Paresu's backwards glance. Her eyes immediately caught the emotion exchanged between the "princess" and one of her "rescuers." Her pleasant smile flattened to a stern line.

"Perhaps one of them could come along?" Paresu ventured. "Since it is so strange to be surrounded by new people…" She trailed off when she finally noticed the queen's hardened gaze.

The Rattepian sovereign chuckled with no amusement. "Now, now, sweetie, they are just as new as we are, are they not? After all, they found you only a few days ago." She stroked Paresu's cheek. "Come now, we have an important… dinner you must attend," she said as they left the room, though she was sure to give Goten a good glare before she was out of sight.

-----

"Are… um… my new friends going to join us for dinner?" Paresu asked nervously.

The Queen, leading Paresu down a hall with Dreob following, raised an eyebrow. "Why would they attend?"

Paresu laughed nervously. "Well, they did rescue me. It would just be pleasant and polite to have them as dinner company."

Cysamthetip shook her head. "Tradvenuer, I'm sure they were very nice to you, but this is something of an… official dinner. We'll be taking care of matters that don't concern them. They don't belong there." She smiled. "Now that you're back, things must continue on the correct path. You can return to your life here, and they can continue on their own journey. They did seem to be in some kind of hurry, after all."

"But, I--"

"Tradvenuer, my lovely," a sensual voice purred.

Paresu, quickly remembering that was her name now, looked toward the voice curiously. "Yes?"

A shockingly handsome man strode toward her, a soft smile on his thin lips. His short green hair was smoothly slicked back and shone like his brown eyes. His attire was neat and pressed, and he expressed an obvious superiority to the small entourage of attendants following him. He elegantly took her fingers in his and bowed down to kiss her hand. "It is the greatest pleasure to see you again."

Paresu blushed and smiled up at him nervously. "Oh, my… Thank you," she replied.

He straightened and caressed her face with soft fingers. "You father has informed me of your amnesia," he said with concern. "He wishes for things to continue as planned, but if you wish I am willing to conform to your needs."

Paresu cocked her head to the side in confusion as she pulled his hand away from her face. The touch was far too affectionate, not to mention Goten would surely be upset if he had seen it. "I'm sorry?"

The queen broke into laughter, though it had quite the nervous inflection. "Ooh, don't worry about her, dear! Things are back to normal as far as we're concerned!" She shooed him away. "We must get dear Tradvenuer changed, so you do so too!"

"Changed for what?" Paresu asked as the man walked away, his small entourage close behind him.

"For dinner," Cysamthetip replied quickly, leading Paresu down a hall. Following behind, Dreob frowned in disapproval.

"Who was that?" the human girl asked. "How do I know him?"

"He's a very good friend," the Rattepian queen answered, glaring at Dreob when the girl snorted in sarcastic laughter.

Paresu was going to press further, but a voice behind them called for the three to stop and they were accosted by a group of women who assailed them with questions. "The shipment of huelan filet never arrived! What shall we do?" one woman asked panickedly. Another pushed her aside and said, "Nevermind that! Someone accidentally released the doves!" Yet another shouted over the cacophony, "We can't find the musicians!"

The Queen gestured for the ladies to quiet down. "Now, now! Let's all calm down." She gave them a reassuring smile. "We have other food to serve. I've ordered the chef to stockpile my husband's favorite, yualehn steak, so there should be enough for all our guests." The first woman nodded and ran off, presumably to the kitchen. "As for the doves, they obviously aren't going to return. We'll simply have to do without them." The second woman sighed and left. "I hired the musicians myself. They are good acquaintances. I happen to know they frequent Wherl Tavern very often. It is not that late, so I'm sure they've just lost track of time a bit. Go retrieve them." And the third hurried away. Cysamthetip turned to the remaining women. "See what simple solutions rational thought produces? I assigned you all to this occasion because I trust you to make proper decisions. Now go and solve your issues. I trust you."

"This is an important dinner?" Paresu asked as the ladies vanished down different halls.

"Oh, yes," the Queen answered idly. She linked her arm with Paresu's and continued to lead her down the hall. "Let's get you into proper dress, dear."

-----

The MARC crew, sans Paresu, sat in an extravagant dining room. At Serive's forceful request, the guards stood outside the doors instead of in the room, so now the travelers could speak freely while they ate. Part of the extensive reward was a delicious meal that was much better than what they had stocked on the ship.

"I wonder how she's doing," Goten sighed as he pushed his food around his plate.

"I'm sure she's fine," Trunks said. "It's not like they're going to torture her or anything.

"I can't believe you weren't going to bow," Vejita sneered at them. "It's only fucking polite, you know."

Everyone could only stare.

Gohan frowned, staring out the window at the courtyard. He would have expected to see noblemen and noblewomen parading about, but the finely trimmed patch of land was deserted. Perhaps they were all gathered inside for some kind of announcement, or to watch the king punish troublemakers. But it was so strange to see no one coming or going, as if whatever was going on was so important that they could not wander in late or have the nerve to show up early.

Trunks, sitting next to him, nudged him with his elbow. "What's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, I was just wondering where everyone was."

Trunks glanced outside and shrugged before turning back to the table and asking, "So, how do we separate 'Tradveneur' from her family and get her back on the ship?"

Gohan tried to help construct a plan, but the emptiness of the courtyard was nagging at the back of his mind. He gazed out again, and saw a young boy run in from the arched stone opening with a box clutched in his hands. He raced along the cobblestone path to towards the guarded front doors.

"Hey!" Gohan called down. "Boy!" He ignored the confused questions from the others sitting at the table.

The boy stopped and looked up at the window. "Yes?" he asked with an urgent tone. He was obviously in a hurry.

"What do you have there?" Gohan asked. Serive snapped something at him, but he didn't acknowledge her.

The boy looked down at the white box, then back up to the stranger in the window. "The Royal Decorator was missing a centerpiece for the Royal Reception this evening!" he yelled up. "I am bringing her the remaining one."

"Reception?" Gohan repeated. "Is Dreob getting married?"

The boy gave Gohan a strange look. "You are not from around here, Sir?"

Gohan shook his head. "No, just visiting."

"Ah, I see." The boy walked to the gate as he finished the conversation. "I must go, but this is for the wedding of our other Princess, Tradveneur." He looked up at the guards, who let him pass.

In the room looking over the courtyard, the group fell silent.

"… WEDDING?!" Goten hollered.

-----

Paresu gazed at her dinner dress. It seemed way too fabulous to eat a meal in. It was a baby blue velour gown with yellow and black trim at the v-neck collar, sleeves, and empire waist. The sleeves themselves flared to be about half the width of the dress' hem, which fell over her sky blue ankle boots. A long white cloth had been placed over her head and held in place by an ornate silver crown. The sheet had a long slit on either side so that it parted over her shoulders.

"Oh, honey, you look gorgeous…" the queen sniffled.

Paresu raised an eyebrow. Her "mother" was acting as if she was getting married or some-

She froze. She looked from her reflection to the crying queen. She remembered the questions all the servants had and the strange man who'd kissed her hand.

"This is a wedding dress!" Paresu shrieked.

The two other women looked at each other.

"Why am I wearing this?" Paresu yelled. "I'm not getting married!" She backed away from the mirror.

The queen gently took her by the shoulders and turned her around. "Now calm down, Sweetie," she cooed.

"Psh," Paresu's "sister" scoffed, "she doesn't even remember him and she doesn't want to marry him."

"I'm not getting married!" Paresu shrilly repeated.

"Honey," her mother attempted to sooth her again, "I know this is bad time, but before you left you had put this betrothal off for long enough. He is a good match for you, and the alliance between our worlds will bring great prosperity!"

"No!" Paresu repeated. "This is insane!"

"Don't be selfish, Tradveneur!" the Queen snapped. "You are a princess and you are required to do your duty!"

"I'm NOT a princess!" Paresu screamed. "You don't understand. I lied! I'm not her!"

The Queen stared at her, and Paresu was relieved to tell the truth. Until her "mother" said, "You didn't lose your memory at all, Tradveneur!"

"What?"

She looked very angry. "This is just another stunt to put off the wedding!"

Paresu shook her head wildly. "No, I--"

"You listen to me, young lady," Cysamthetip said dangerously. "I have had enough of this! You will marry him, and you will cease your immaturity!"

Paresu didn't know what to say. The Queen didn't believe her. They were going to force her to marry a stranger. Suddenly she flung herself towards the door, but it was useless as the Queen easily snagged her arm and pulled her back. She was strong for an older woman; Paresu couldn't pull away. Finally she just screamed, "GOTEN!!"

Cysamthetip grabbed the girl's other arm and glared at her. "That boy! You are not to see him again!"

"No!" Paresu hollered, getting angry now. "You don't understand! I love Goten! I--"

Dreob's gasp was muffled under the piercing crack of the Queen's slap. Paresu, her cheek flaring a fabulous red, was shocked at the outburst and could only stare blindly at the wall.

"You have only known that boy for mere days," the Queen said lowly, daring her "daughter" to speak out again. "To say that you love him is ridiculous. You will do as I say! You will do as your father says! You will do what is expected of someone of your station!" She took in a deep breath to calm herself. "This arrangement has become strained enough already. If you do not marry him, who knows what could happen?"

Paresu finally found her voice. "You don't understand…" she whispered, afraid of being struck again.

"You're so selfish, Tradvenuer," the Queen replied softly. She turned away and went to the door, grabbing Dreob's arm as she passed her. "We must be sure that everything is prepared. Let's go, Dreob, dear."

The redhead was steadfast as her mother tugged at her arm. She stared at her "sister," who was obviously holding back tears.

"Dreob." Cysamthetip's temper was rising again.

The younger princess gave her mother an indiscernible look before leaving the room. Her mother followed without another word to the disobedient bride.

The door closed and the sound of the lock echoed in Paresu's ears.

"Goten…" Paresu fell to her knees and cried.

-----

In a hall within the palace, two ladies in waiting- one petite, the other rather robust and taller- walked side-by-side and discussed the wedding that was to take place that evening. It was fortunate that the princess returned today; their potential ally had been very angry when she had vanished a month before.

Their discussion was turning into an argument, but before it got to the point where the ladies would get angry, they met an intersection in the hall. From around the corner on the left, feminine hands grabbed the smaller woman. From around the corner to the right, masculine hands snatched the other. The two ladies' cries were muffled then suddenly quieted completely. For a minute or two there was only the sound of clothing being removed and donned, then the two ambushers stepped out from their hiding places.

"I must say," Bra said, looking down at herself and posing for no one in particular, "this is rather cute."

"Speak for yourself!" cried her accomplice. "I look like… like…"

Bra looked up and couldn't repress her giggles. "Like a transvestite?"

"Very funny!" Goten snapped. He folded his arms and frowned angrily. "Couldn't we have looked for a lady and a guy?"

"We don't have time for that," Bra pointed out, adjusting the cloth on his head so that it shadowed his more masculine features. "You should probably keep putting your arms like that. We don't have time to make you boobs either."

"What is Paresu going to think of me?" Goten muttered.

Bra grabbed his hand and started down a hall, "She'll probably be happy that you're there to rescue her." She narrowed her eyes in concentration. "I think I sense her in this direction."

-----

In the palace hangar, a dozen mechanics were working on their guest's ship. Their first completed task was the repairs on the leg. Once they felt confident that the landing gear was good as new, they did as their king had told them and started on any improvements necessary. But since their queen had recently sent a messenger saying that she wanted the guests to leave as soon as possible, the crew settled for refining what was already present and added only a few new capabilities.

Whatever they had decided, they were clearly not finished when Bulma and Vejita walked into the vast room. They could see a few workers diligently altering certain wires beneath exterior panels of the ship, and heard voices coming from within the craft as others were doing their work inside. Two of the men had taken to polishing the ship and were dutifully shining the metal with rags.

Bulma approached a mechanic who stood beneath the ship as he closed a panel and began sealing it with a blowtorch. Shielding her eyes from the bright glow, she asked, "How is your work coming?"

He did not stop his work. "I'm done here, but I got two men inside and three on the exterior."

"How long will you be? We're in kind of a hurry."

The mechanic said nothing for a moment while he continued to seal the panel. "Well, it shouldn't take much longer for my one guy to fix your intercom. After I'm done here, I'll check up on all of them and let you know."

"Thanks," Bulma replied. She returned to Vejita. "He's not sure."

Vejita frowned, his arms folded in his usual stance. "Well, this half-assed plan is going to fall apart if the ship isn't ready in time."

"Well, there's always Plan B," Bulma replied.

"What's that?"

Bulma sweatdropped. "Using force."

"Remind me why we aren't using force now?"

"Well, for one these workers are in the perfect position to easily make the ship useless by jamming a wrench into the engine or some other useful part. Plus we don't want some intergalactic police chasing after us."

"If we have the 'princess,' they'll do that anyway."

"Which is why we're gonna haul ass." Bulma sighed, watching the mechanics' progress. "'Tradvenuer' is going with us of her free will, don't forget. We'll only have this planet's forces to deal with, I'd expect. If we kidnapped her, we'd have a bigger kind of law to deal with. Besides, if we use force, there's no way we're getting that money to feed all your bottomless stomachs."

Vejita said nothing for a moment, then said, "You know, I would kill her if I could. We shouldn't be out here to begin with."

Bulma smiled and brushed his arm with her hand. "That's strangely sweet," she chuckled at his threat. "But it looks like we're gonna be in it for the long hall. She never forgets to give me another dosage of those pletels."

"What if we emptied her doll?"

"How would we get to it? I've never seen it away from her for long. She'd figure it out before the stuff already in me wore off."

Frustrated, Vejita fell silent and frowned to himself.

Bulma tousled his hair. "Hey, everything's going to be okay."

Vejita bristled at the comfort. "I know that!" he snapped.

"Hey!" the main mechanic shouted over. "Looks like we'll be done sooner than I thought! Twenty minutes tops!"

"Thanks!" Bulma yelled back with a gracious wave. "Thank God," she muttered to Vejita.

-----

"I don't think this is a good idea," Gohan muttered.

Trunks peeked around the corner and saw no one in the hall. "Well, once we leave with Paresu, we won't make it far if they're coming after us."

"We're going to get caught."

"Only if you don't act natural," Trunks said, moving carefully through the passages.

Gohan sighed. "We're gonna have to run for the other hangar. There's no way Bra and Goten are going to get to Paresu undetected."

"Shh!" Trunks hushed him. "Someone's coming!"

They ducked into a perpendicular hall. Trunks glanced around the corner and saw two figures in light-colored dresses approaching. "You think they've found the guards that were watching all of us yet?"

"There'd probably be more commotion if they had."

Trunks nodded. "Alright. Play along with me."

"Huh?"

Trunks stepped into the hall and approached the two women coming towards him. "Ladies! Hello! I was just wondering if… if…"

"What's the matter?" Gohan asked as he joined the Briefs boy. Then he saw the two ladies in waiting. "… GOTEN?"

Goten covered his face in embarrassment. "Hi."

"… AH HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!" Trunks collapsed to the floor in laughter.

Bra couldn't help her own laughter. "Hey," she giggled, "I think Goten-chan looks very pretty."

That only resulted in more boisterous laughter from the man rolling on the floor.

Gohan sweatdropped as he stared at his brother. "So… no luck in finding Paresu?"

Goten shook his head. "This section of the castle is dead."

Trunks was no longer laughing, but his grin was a mile wide. "What's up with that get-up?"

"They're not gonna let two foreigners near the bride," Goten pointed out. "We need to pose as servants."

"Why don't you just knock the guards out?"

"Like we need to bring more attention to ourselves?"

Gohan held up a hand to hush them. "There's someone coming!"

The footsteps coming towards them were slow, but determined. After a moment, an elderly man turned into the hallway. He gripped his cane with one hand and held a white box in the other. His face was twisted with exhaustion and pain.

"Oh, man…" Bra extended a hand to the man, unsure if he needed help. "Are you okay?"

The old man stopped and looked up. His surprise showed that he hadn't notice the four were there. "Oh, hello!" his raspy voice greeted.

"Do you need help?" Bra pressed as the man continued on.

He sighed as he persisted on, though the sweat on his brow was a plea for his body to take a rest. "I must get this to the princess' dressing room. The ceremony is due to begin within the hour."

The younger four exchanged glances. They didn't have long.

Bra grinned. "Well, my friend and I are actually supposed to help Princess Tradvenuer with any last minute alterations on her dress," she fibbed. "We'd gladly take it there for you."

The old man stopped and smiled appreciatively at her. "That's very kind of you!" he exclaimed, extending the box out to her.

Bra smiled as she took the white box. "No problem."

"Such lovely ladies, helping out an old man," he thanked again, smiling from Bra to Goten.

"You're welcome," Goten replied, blushing madly when Gohan and Trunks snickered.

"But, pray tell us, sir," Bra continued, "where the Princess' room is? We seem to have lost our way."

"Oh, yes." The elder pointed down the hall. "Just continue on here until you can't go straight anymore. Make a left, and it should be the second door on the left. You'll see the guards."

"Oh, and may I ask you a question too, sir?" Trunks jumped in. "We're, ah, foreign apprentices to the Royal Aviation Center. We're supposed to help fix some of the fighting crafts."

"Oh, yeah!" Gohan said. "Yeah, we've gotten lost and we're not sure where the army hangar is."

The old man nodded. "Just go down this hall and make your next right. The trail to that hangar is right out those doors."

"Thank you, sir!" Bra and Trunks chirped in unison.

"Thank you, dears," the old man said, before turning around and hobbling back the way he'd come.

"Catch you guys at the ship," Bra said in a low voice to Trunks before hurrying off with Goten.

"Come on," Trunks said to Gohan. "We don't have much time."

-----

A few minutes later, after following the old man's directions, Bra and Goten had found the room. Two towering guards stood outside the room and stared down at them.

Bra drew herself up to her full height and tilted her chin up. She marched right up to the guards and stared at them haughtily. "Let us pass," she said, trying to deepen her voice so she'd sound more womanly than girlish, but not so much that it was obvious. "We have Lady Tradvenuer's crown." She looked to the side and gestured for Goten to come up beside her.

Goten, blushing furiously, did his best to let the fabric draped over his head and hide his face. He moved to Bra's side and held up the box so the guards could see.

Bra looked up at the two men. "Well, move aside, sirs."

The two guards exchanged unreadable glances, but did not move their staffs from in front of the door.

Bra frowned. "Well?!" she repeated expectantly.

The two men looked down at the two so-called ladies in waiting and-- to Bra and Goten's discomfort-- leered.

"The wedding doesn't begin for a while yet," the bearded one on the right said to Bra. He leaned down and flashed what he probably thought was a smooth, flattering smile.

"Yeah," the shorter guard on the left agreed. To Goten's horror, he flashed the cross-dressed young man a similar grin. "Why don't we talk for a bit?"

Bra worked her mouth as she tried to thing of what to say. Finally, she sputtered, "Ex-excuse ME, gentlemen! I don't appreciate this conduct at all!"

But her admirer was not obliged to let up. "A lovely woman like yourself should always be complimented."

It was obvious to Goten that these guys were the type who liked girls who played hard to get. So he tried a different approach. "Oh, boys!" he said. He didn't have to raise the pitch of his voice too much; his voice was high already. "We'd love to chat with you, but we really must get the princess ready for her big day!" He did his best at a coy, girlish giggle as he inched towards the door.

To his great disappointment, the men kept blocking the door, and now the shorter guard thought he had it made.

"I still say we have time for a little chat," he said with a wink at Goten. He looked down at Goten's hands, clutching the box with the crown. "Your hands seem a little rough," he commented.

Goten blanched. "Um, well… You know, we do work hard for the queen!" he said. "Can't keep our fingers dainty for long."

The guard set his free hand on Goten's shoulder. "Well, it's always nice to see a woman that's good with her hands."

"Really!" Bra snapped. "We would like to get into that room NOW."

The bearded guard laughed. "Ooh, feisty…"

Goten looked up at his guard and sneered. "We are quite busy, sirs! We have been perfectly nice to you, and you have been nothing but rude and are keeping us from attending to the Princess! I'm going to have to report this to the king!"

The shorter man frowned. "I'm sorry," he said convincingly, until he continued with, "Can I make it up to you later?" He then moved his hand from Goten's shoulder and grabbed his ass.

Goten's eyes went wide at the blatant violation. He could slightly hear Bra cry out when his hand came up and launched a powerful ki blast at the guard's groin. The horribly injured man howled in pain and grabbed at his crotch. Goten drew back his arm and slammed his fist into the side of the guard's head. The second guard gaped at his fallen friend, and had only looked up for a split second when Bra chopped her hand into the side of his neck. He fell on top of his comrade.

Goten glowered down at the two men. "That was RUDE." He looked over at Bra. "Did that ever happen to you?"

"A few times," she replied. She then grinned. "But after that the guy usually loses function in his hand for a while."

"Heh." Goten opened the door and stepped inside.

"I am NOT getting married!" a familiar voice cried from within the room.

There was movement in front of him and something shattered onto his head. Goten yelled out in surprise and minimal pain. He looked up from the broken pot pieces on the floor to his attacker. "Hey, Paresu."

Paresu's face positively lit up when she recognized the only man she did want to marry. "GOTEN!!" she squealed. Then she froze and her eyes gave him a once over. "Goten?"

-----

"One of our guests wishes to speak with you, Your Highness," an attendant announced from the doorway of the Great Hall.

Queen Cysamthetip paused in her criticism of the table settings and glared at the servant. "Very well."

The attendant stepped aside and Serive entered the room. She bowed to the Queen. "Thank you for seeing me, Your Majesty."

The Queen picked up a blue linen napkin and gave it to one of her ladies in waiting. "Get something of a lighter shade." She turned back to Serive as the woman ran off. "I am quite busy. What is it you need?"

Serive nodded. "I only wish to request the reward that was promised for the return of your daughter. We appreciate your hospitality, but we are pressed for time."

Hearing this, the Queen smiled brightly. "Oh, well, of course! If you must be on your way, I'll have my guard pick up the parcel. It's all in the standard currency, of course." She waved to one of the guards at the door, and he bowed and left the room.

Serive stared at the great hall. It was lined with towering pedestals, lifting the ceiling up towards the clouds. On the far side was a platform, where the music of the minstrels would echo off the ceiling and down to the space left for dancing. The rest of the floor was occupied by nearly a hundred dinner tables, the settings of which the Queen was agonizing over.

"It looks lovely," Serive said idly.

"Hm." Cysamthetip picked up a fork and inspected it. "Everything must be perfect for this dinner."

"Well, every mother wishes such for her daughter on her wedding day."

The Queen looked up and smiled at being found out. "So you know."

Serive nodded. "It's an odd practice, isn't it? Marrying your daughter off when she can't even remember who she is?"

Apparently satisfied with the silverware, the Rattepian royalty replaced the fork. "We don't want to further annoy the groom's parents."

"They are angry?"

Cysamthetip sighed. "My husband has known the groom's father since they were young. They always promised each other than one day their children would marry and their kingdoms united into prosperity and happiness. When Tradvenuer was born, she was immediately betrothed to the prince of our sister planet, and we visited each other frequently so the future spouses could get acquainted." She gestured to an attendant, who pulled out one of the chairs for her. She sat and folded her hands in her lap. "As years went by, it became clear that while my eldest daughter didn't hate her future husband, she did not want to become his queen. She became more and more rebellious to the idea, and finally ran off. Her future in-laws were merely upset before when she blatantly expressed that she wanted to marry another, but when she ran away they were furious and actually made some threats to us." She closed her eyes. "Nobrust has been so upset, to see his close friendship being chipped away by Tradvenuer's disobedience."

Serive nodded. "Ties are difficult to maintain when you're royalty." She tapped her foot, getting impatient for the reward. "I'm sure your daughter will settle down with him eventually."

Cysamthetip opened her eyes and looked at Serive sternly. "The young boy with you. With the black hair. I have seen how he looks at my daughter. He does not intend to interrupt the ceremony, does he?"

Serive shook her head and laughed. "Of course not. He does have a small crush on the princess, but I have told him that he is not to trifle with royal affairs." She smiled assuringly at the queen. "That is one of the reasons I have decided we must leave as soon as possible. The silly boy is quite heartbroken."

The queen smiled back at her guest with relief. "Well, he has worried me. To tell the truth, I ordered our mechanics to be quick with the improvements to your ship."

"Oh, that's fine!" Serive chimed agreeably. "I understand perfectly."

The guard returned with a large, thick sack. Serive gazed at the plentiful reward and grinned. "You are too kind, Your Highness."

The queen nodded and gestured to her guard. "He will carry it back to your ship for you."

"Oh, that's not necessary," Serive replied. She took the sack from the guard and swung it over her shoulder. She bowed despite the heavy weight on her back. "A thousand thanks for your hospitality, Your Majesty." She straightened. "As soon as your men are done with our ship, we'll be on our way and you won't have to worry about temporary youthful affections."

The Queen nodded respectfully in Serive's direction. "Thank you. Your return of Tradvenuer is inexpressibly appreciated."

Serive bowed again. "Good-bye, Your Majesty." She carried the sack out of the room.

The Queen turned her attention back to the table setting. Tradvenuer would understand eventually. She herself did understand how her eldest daughter wanted to marry for love instead of for her planet, but for Kings and Queens and their children, their choices were limited to their responsibilities. It certainly wasn't fair, but it was the price to be paid when one was born or married into such a high status.

Cysamthetip smiled. How lucky she was to have fallen in love with Nobrust. She loved her husband dearly. He was always so cheerful and optimistic. His laugh was positively delightful; it rumbled in such a way that she could feel it in her gut and couldn't help but laugh with him. Nobrust was naturally a bright-minded person, which was why it upset her when Tradvenuer ran away. Their daughter's actions were damaging a friendship her husband had held dear since childhood. Couldn't she see that?

She sighed. She would have to sit down with Tradvenuer after the wedding and speak with her more calmly about the situation. She regretted having been so harsh with her earlier. Really, how could she have struck her little girl? Cysamthetip was letting all the stress get to her. This was no such way to think or behave on her daughter's wedding day. It was supposed to be a happy occasion, not a day they would look back on with embarrassment or ill-feeling.

In fact, Cysamthetip realized, it was best if she talked to her daughter now. It certainly couldn't be good luck for the bride to go through the ceremony with a dismal outlook.

"Your Highness!" an attendant yelled and rushed into the room. "The guards escorting our guests were found unconscious in the dining hall!"

"What?" Cysamthetip exclaimed.

The servant flinched at the shrill tone, but nodded. "And we found two of your ladies knocked out and in their underclothes in the South Wing! And Tradvenuer's guards are also down!"

The Queen stood up and began shouting orders. "You!" she yelled, pointing to a guard. "Go to the hanger and stop that ship!" She gestured to the other, "Get men to the fighter crafts in case they take off!" She set her gaze on her attendant. "Go alert the rest of the guard to search for our guests and Tradvenuer!" As the three ran off to carry out her commands, she marched from the room

She supposed this day just wasn't meant to be happy.

-----

Goten, Bra, and Paresu rushed through the halls. They kept alert for any signs that they were being pursued and ducked into thankfully empty rooms each time they spotted someone heading their way.

"We're almost there," Bra said as they entered a familiar hallway. A few turns later, they spotted the door that led outside to the guest hangar. And they quickly ducked into a perpendicular hall.

"Shit!" Goten hissed. He peeked around the corner. Sure enough, the seven guards were not in his imagination. "What do we do?"

A figure appeared in the adjacent hallway. The three looked up and gasped. None other than Dreob had caught them in hiding. They froze, unsure what to do. The plan to get away as quickly as possible without causing harm was falling apart.

Dreob stared at them with mild interest until a guard's voice caught her attention.

"Princess! You shouldn't be wandering the halls with those miscreants on the loose," he called down the hall way.

"I saw them head that way!" Dreob shouted back, pointing to the left. "I think they're going to steal the Royal Vessel!!"

The guards quickly obeyed their princess, who watched them rush off toward the royal hangar. She turned to the three foreigners in hiding and nodded her head towards the door to the outside. "Before they find out you're not there," she said.

They ran out the door and hurried along the path to the large craft-hoarding building. They reached the door and Dreob stop and stared at her "sister".

"You really aren't her," Dreob said, inspecting Paresu closely.

"No," Paresu admitted.

"Heh, I thought you seemed different." She laughed derisively. "I guess my parents are more worried about this stupid wedding than Tradvenuer."

"I'm sure that's not true!" Paresu protested. The idea that the match was more important than their daughter was just too horrible.

"Look, you have to go," Dreob said, walking into the hangar. The three quickly followed.

Through the wide window on the front of the ship, they could see that the other five had already made it there. Gohan and Trunks started laughing at Goten again, while the other three seemed to be at a loss for words. Shaking her head and saying something, Serive disappeared from view.

"You've all made quite a mess here," Dreob commented, but didn't show any overt anger.

"I'm sorry," Paresu apologized quietly.

Dreob stared at the girl, showing no emotion. Then she grasped Paresu's hand. "Promise me something."

Paresu looked up. "Yes?"

"If you find her, ask her to come home."

Serive appeared again on the stairs leading up into the ship. "Come on!" she snapped. "Unless you want to masquerade here forever!"

Paresu smiled at Dreob. "I will!" she pledged, squeezing the other woman's hand. "Goodbye!" she called out as Goten grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the ship.

Bra briefly touched Dreob's shoulder. "Really though, we're sorry about this whole thing," she said, before running to the ship.

"It's fine," Dreob said to herself as the stairs ascended back into the ship. She turned and left the hangar as the MARC powered up. "Maybe now the betrothal will finally be broken and she'll come home."

-----

The Queen hurried to the ship repair hanger with and entourage of servants struggling to catch up. They were halfway between the palace and the hanger when they heard the unmistakable sound of the building's roof sliding open. Their guests' ship shot into the air and up into the atmosphere. She looked for any Rattepian ships in pursuit, but the sky was otherwise empty.

"Why aren't they going after them?!" Queen Cysamthetip hollered.

And attendant appeared before her, breathless from running. "Our ships have all been sabotaged!" he cried out.

The Queen could think of no other action to take upon hearing this. She fumed to herself until the escaping ship disappeared from her sight. She whirled around and marched back towards the castle. Passing through the massive doors, she spotted Dreob sitting on a bench in the hall.

"It's not like she wanted to marry him anyway," her other daughter muttered.

Cysamthetip stopped. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep, before opening her angry gaze and setting it on her daughter. "Being royalty isn't about what you want," she said coolly. "If you are going to be like Tradvenuer, you are welcome to desert us like she did."

"Sister didn't desert us."

"Dreob… As far as I am concerned, you don't have a sister," the Queen stated and ventured into the castle to find her husband and break his heart.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Let me tell you, Tradvenuer's mom originally wasn't going to be so mean, but, uh, that's how the plot evolved. This chapter annoys me because it's so long, and it required me to fill in a LOT of plot holes. I hope it doesn't suck.


	16. Interlude Two

Disclaimer: I'm getting really tired of saying this. I do not own DBZ/GT or any of the characters, 'cept for Serive, of course.

Author's Note: Another short installment to my favorite fic, which will take forever for me to finish. But I have fun doing it.

I'd just like to take some time to thank my reviewers. I definitely don't do it enough. It's just that when I upload this stuff, it slips my mind. So, yes, THANK YOU ALL! I LOVE YOU!!! And to answer a question: Readers, remember in the chapter where Serive first takes control of Bulma, Serive says that she can store (and probably already has) a suggestion in Bulma's mind for her to carry out in case of Serive's death. That's why she hasn't been brutally beaten or any such thing. Though in the future, I will likely fit in an attempt for them to outsmart her… And, also, be advised that I don't do action very well. There WILL eventually be action in this fic (hell, they're going to help fight in a war), but not a lot. There is a battle in store, though.

And, yes, I know Serive is a very hatable character. I'm actually very proud that so many people detest her. Mwa hahaha… Am I looking for sympathy for her with all my angst scenes with her and such? It's hard to say. I mean, you can feel sorry for someone and still hate them. Plus, even though she's a terrible person, it's still important to understand the background of a character. Not to mention, it can be so fun to write for mean people. And, keep in mind, I'm the kind of person who felt bad for Joaquin Phoenix's character in Gladiator. Be sure, however, that her terrible behavior will contribute to the main ideas of the story. This is a long author's note.

Anyway, so here's another interlude, a glimpse into past events…

Interlude Two

Vejita's knee gave out from under him and he collapsed to the floor. With an angry grunt he flattened both palms against the wall and pulled himself up, resting his weight on his good leg. It wasn't exactly in perfect shape, but it was better than the other, which he was sure had some torn ligaments or tendons.

He would have been to his room by now, but as always he'd taken the long way through the rarely trekked passages. He'd gone this way for years, but recently he'd wondered why he'd even bothered anymore. It wasn't as if no one else knew of Freeza's more sadistic, perverted interest in him; that bulbous blob of a bastard Dodoria had no doubt been spreading the word among the ranks.

Well, there still was a reason he avoided the main halls. He couldn't stand to see the superior, mocking grins of those who hated him. He didn't want to feel the leers of those who wished the Ice-jin had torn off a bit more of his blue suit. He couldn't stand anyone seeing him like this, seeing that he wasn't as strong as he bragged himself to be.

He snarled at his thoughts. He would be the strongest one day God damn it. He would reach levels beyond anyone's comprehension, and then anyone who had ever dared to cross him in the slightest manner would pay. The first victim would be Freeza. The prince would beat him until the white alien was a colorful mix of purples, blacks, and blues. He would tear through the creature's flesh and tear out his innards. He would shatter every bone, rip apart all tissue, and crush each organ. Vejita would make the bastard pay the same way he had been treated: with perpetual suffering.

His better leg failed him and he fell again, but this time he was surprised to feel arms catch him under his arms. Vejita looked down at the pale arms latched around his scratched chest and holding him up, and growled when he saw the red nails on the fingers.

"Long time, no see," Serive grunted into his ear as she pulled the prince to his feet.

Vejita easily twisted out of her grip, but without the extra support he was forced to lean against the wall again. "I should have known my luck would run out," he growled.

"Asshole really did a number on you," Serive said with a wince.

"Like you care, bitch."

"Excuse me, but I believe _you_ were the one who wasn't too kind to _me_ in the first place," she snapped in return.

"Do you want something?" Vejita snapped.

"No." Serive looked him over again. "Do you want me to help you to the infirmary?"

"No." Vejita set off on his way again, figuring she'd take the hint and leave him be.

But he had no such luck. "What do you mean 'no'?!" Serive squawked, following him, which wasn't really difficult at his stifled pace. "Look at you! You've been torn to shit."

"Why do you care?!" Vejita snarled.

Serive hesitated, and then replied, "I don't. It just drives me crazy when presumably semi-intelligent people do stupid things." She suddenly slipped an arm around his back and under his arm. "Where's your room?"

He smacked her away. "Mind your own fucking business!" He leaned towards her, holding up a ki-charged fist threatening. This unfortunately brought him away from the support of the wall, and he found himself on the floor again. Humiliated, Vejita refused to even look up at her.

Serive held in her sigh, though she did wonder why she was letting empathy get the best of her. She should just leave the idiot here to bleed until someone else found him, maybe someone will much less benevolence than she, someone who may reenact the tortures the poor prince had been put through.

Serive swallowed hard, thinking back over the past couple weeks, specifically on certain occurrences that she could never cut from herself, no matter how deeply she dug. She gazed down on Vejita, still frozen in frustration and anger on the floor, and was reminded on how the torture would never stop for either of them for as long as they were here. She needed to get out of here. She needed an ally.

She cursed herself. She could not leave him here.

"I will mind my own business," she said calmly as she crouched down, "once you are either in the medical wing or in your room."

Vejita looked up at her with his cold obsidian eyes. She had never seen such bitterness and hatred in her life, and somehow knew she'd never see anything quite like it again from any other being.

----

They saw few people on the way to Vejita's room, but warning glares sent them quickly on their way. After ten minutes, the prince stopped her outside one of the plain steel blue doors that littered the hallway. He glared at her accusingly and she rolled her eyes and looked away as he tapped in his pass code on the numbered panel next to the door, which opened.

"I don't understand why you won't go to the medical center," Serive grumbled to herself as she helped him inside of his room and the door slid shut behind him. A ceiling light clicked on and the room was dimly lit.

Vejita was tired of her questions. "I can't go, okay?!" he hollered.

"What do you mean?"

"I _can't_ go. It'd only cost me more injuries if I did."

"He's a real bastard, isn't he?" Serive muttered. She herself hadn't received such an order after her… meetings with Freeza. Not yet, anyway. She supposed she could expect it once he realized she still wouldn't break no matter how appalling the sessions were. And they were appalling.

"You have no idea," Vejita chuckled derisively, not noticing Serive's expression, which said otherwise. He forcefully shrugged her off of him and limped over to the bed pushed against the far wall. He grunted as he leaned down and pulled a box out from under the bed.

Serive shoved the queasy thoughts from her mind and looked around the Saiyajin's room. "Home sweet home," she muttered. Despite what each room readily provided- bed, table, lamp, two chairs- the room was bare. There were no pictures, no knick-knacks, or anything decorative. Surely the soldiers had books (at least the smarter ones) or souvenirs from planets (the touristic or sadistic) or maybe even pets (the schizophrenic). She herself had picked up a few interesting items that she had placed on a shelf in her own quarters.

Vejita noticed her bewildered expression. "What?"

"You don't have any possessions?"

"No." Vejita opened the box, revealing some simple medical supplies, such as gauze, bandages, and antiseptic.

"Why not?"

"Hard to have any belongings when they were all fried when your planet was destroyed," was the cold answer.

Serive was quiet for a moment, then said softly. "Yes, they say it was a meteor."

"I'm surprised that's the version you heard."

Serive blinked. "What? What do you mean?" She waited for an answer, but the prince merely went back to attending his wounds the best he could. She exhaled with frustration. She hated being ignored. She wandered around the room a bit and found herself at the computer panel: a simple touch-activated screen provided in every room. She pressed at the menu options for a few moments until she came up with Vejita's assignment list. She was a bit awed at its length, but she remembered that he had been doing this longer than she, and he was more often than not sent with the company of his two yes men.

"Why are you still here?" Vejita asked.

Serive rolled her eyes. "I suppose you aren't much one for company. You seem to barely even tolerate those other two."

"That's not what I meant."

Serive turned back to him, and he was finishing off a bandage with some medical tape. "Eh?"

"I meant, why haven't you told Freeza what he wants to know yet?"

"Because I'd rather not have my planet suffer a similar fate as yours." Serive leaned against the wall. "Freeza has attempted to enlist my people as soldiers for quite some time, but we've always refused."

"Why didn't he destroy it then?"

"My otousan and he first met on Kreoko, not Wycan. Before that, we had heard through certain channels that Freeza was looking to enslave Wycan. Using our best shamans, we've been able to cloak our planet from any radars. Freeza doesn't know where it is, so he can't blow it up."

Vejita snorted. "For now."

Serive flushed and turned away. "Yes," she admitted.

"You can go now," he said, setting to work on another wound. He didn't look up and obviously expected her to go.

She raised an eyebrow. She couldn't help but notice his wording. She 'could' go now? A way of kicking her out with authority and royal grace. She smirked, knowing she shouldn't laugh. The poor guy was practically in denial. He probably still treated those other two as if he were the destined ruler of an entire planet.

It was hard not to feel sorry for him. Besides, she really did need an ally. Sympathy helped make him a good choice, not to mention their similar situations.

"You know…" Serive decided to venture where no other soldier had (or ever would). "I think it's possible for us to be… friends."

Vejita looked up and stared at her. Then, bluntly, he said, "Didn't I just tell you to get the fuck out?!"

She took it back. It was easy not to feel bad for him.

She pressed a panel by the door and it slid open. "Well, then," she grunted. "Fuck you too." She shot him a glare before walking out. "And you're welcome."

"OUT!!"

"ASSHOLE!"

"BITCH!"

The doorway became empty, and the door slid shut. Vejita finished bandaging his wounds.


	17. Meanwhile 1

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Author's Note: Short one, this time. This is a "meanwhile." There will be a few of these that cover events that happen without the central cast on MARC. Um… except for that one chapter that occurred on Wycan. But, yes, these little reprieves will let y'all in one what's going on elsewhere.

Meanwhile… (1)

Krillin read a magazine and leaned back in his chair. He was keeping an idle watch on the communication feed from MARC, from which Bulma or another traveler made regular reports. Bulma's latest renovated technology allowed them to broadcast from amazingly far distances, but she had told him that after a while they wouldn't be able to contact each other. Krillin dreaded that day. His ability to sense ki could only stretch so far. He didn't want to ask Marron to rely on faith that Trunks and the others were okay.

Hm. When the technology failed them, they would have to rely on spirituality. Science versus religion. That's the way it always was, wasn't it? The people of Earth, even if religious, were secular in so many ways. But when reason couldn't give them an answer, it was then that they ran to their faith. It was only for the minority that it was the other way around.

Krillin missed that. He had been raised as a monk, taught the ways of Buddha. Unfortunately when he died, he saw the real workings of the afterlife and their affects on the living. In all honestly, he had been very disappointed. Regular people had a luxury he didn't; when they ran to God, they had only an abstract idea of what God could do for them. Krillin knew exactly what it was: not much. When secular ideas failed him, he had very little to go to for comfort. Even the ideals of living a good life couldn't do much when things still went wrong.

If he still had the luxury of a mysterious afterlife, Krillin decided, he would rely on his faith much more than he relied on earthly solutions. The resolutions of the earthly world always had disappointment, but faith... Ah, faith left you room to breathe. It gave you feeling that everything was going to be okay, even if things didn't go your way.

The people of earth would probably be much happier if they all ran to faith before running to technology. Of course, considering what they would find once they all died, they would probably be disappointed in the end anyway.

"Papa?" Marron stepped into the room. "Any contact?"

Krillin laughed and set down his magazine. "They did call us just yesterday, you know?" he pointed out.

"But I'm a fiancé now," she reminded him with a giggle. "You should be happy I didn't go with them."

Krillin was only partially amused. "I'm glad you didn't. It's starting to get hairy for them."

Marron shook her head. "Tell me about it. They'll probably have that whole army after them eventually."

"Paresu is probably terrified," her father commented.

"I'm sure Goten will protect her. I'm just glad they got the ship fixed. I wouldn't want MARC to break down on their way home."

_If they get home_, Krillin thought, but kept it to himself.

"Trunks told me yesterday that Bra stood up to Serive," Marron said, taking a seat in an empty chair.

Krillin shook his head. "She's a dangerous woman. It's not good to make friends with her anyway."

Marron shook a finger at her father playfully. "Ah, yes. It did no good for Bulma to make nice with Vejita."

Krillin grinned. "Guess I can't argue with that. But Serive isn't Vejita, you know."

"Certainly not," Marron agreed, "but she probably reminds Bra of him anyway. She just wants to help."

"Some people can't be helped."

"I guess." Marron absentmindedly twirled some stray locks around her index finger. "You know Tien and Chaozu are leaving tonight, yeah?"

"Are they?"

"Yeah," Marron chuckled. "I guess they're not as much into mooching as Yamcha is."

Krillin smiled. "I don't think Yamcha is so much mooching as he's worried about Bulma."

"Why? I think she's as protected as can be with Vejita around."

"They go a long way back," Krillin reminded her. "Yamcha has known Bulma way longer than Vejita has, and I don't think he ever really got over losing her."

Marron snorted. "I guess not. The guy hasn't had a steady girlfriend for as long as I've known him."

"The point is," Krillin went on, "that Yamcha is still very dedicated to her."

"Hm." Marron sat with her father in silence for a few moments, before murmuring, "That's kind of depressing."

"Huh? Oh." Her father had started to read the magazine article again. "It is, I suppose. But Yamcha is fine. I mean, it's not as bad as it was when they first broke it off for good."

"But still," Marron said, wrapping her arms around herself. "I don't know what I would do if Trunks pushed me away and married, like, Pan or someone."

Krillin raised an eyebrow. "Why did you pick Pan?"

She giggled. "I just thought of her 'cause, you know…" She rolled her eyes.

He stared blankly.

Marron threw up her arms in exasperation. "Come on, 'Tousan! Ever since they came back from their space adventure she's been all… weird around him. Always looking for his attention."

Krillin shrugged. "I never noticed. Maybe you're just being possessive and jealous." He ended the remark with a grin.

"Ha!" Marron shook her head. "I'm not jealous of Pan! Maybe if she were older, she'd have a shot in hell, but it never crossed my mind that Trunks would go for her."

"Then why would you suspect her?"

Marron smiled. "It's a girl thing. Trust me."

He shrugged again and looked back to the article. "Doesn't seem like it to me. At least not as obvious as the thing Bra has for Goten."

Marron froze and stared at her father. "You noticed that?"

"Who wouldn't?!" Krillin exclaimed.

Marron blushed. "Yeah, who wouldn't," she muttered.

Krilling scrutinized his daughter. "You've known for a long time too, right?"

"Of course I have!" Marron folded her arms. "I'm not blind!"

"Well, that look tells me you found out last week or something."

She frowned at him, then to herself. "Bra is kinda like Yamcha, isn't she?"

"Oh, Bra will be fine. She's young! She has the rest of her life to fall in love. Besides, it's probably just a little crush."

"My feelings for Trunks used to be 'a little crush.'" Marron pointed out.

Krillin looked up at his daughter and set down the magazine. "Hey," he said, getting up and moving over to her. "Bra is going to be fine." He leaned down gave her a little hug and a peck on the forehead. "Stay here for a sec, okay? I'm gonna get some lunch." He tousled her hair before leaving.

Marron growled half-heartedly and redid her ponytail. Once that was settled, she sat in thought for a few minutes. Then she moved to the main panel and brought up the video log. She pulled up the recording of the call yesterday, and fast forwarded to when she and Trunks had been able to talk alone.

"Hey, Marron!" Trunks exclaimed, his day-old smile still warm and reassuring.

"Trunks!" her voice on the recording exclaimed. "I've heard so much stuff! What on earth happened to you guys!"

"Oh, man. You won't believe the circus we had to go through. Gohan and I had to wreck military fighters!"

Marron sat and listened, and the whole time she stared at Trunks face. She wished so badly that he was back on Earth instead of out there doing who knows what. The knot in her stomach tightened as the conversation proceeded.

A few minutes later, Trunks' visage looked over his shoulder and frowned. "Eh, I have to go. We have to run some routine diagnostic crap."

"Oh… okay," her voice said.

His expression softened. "I miss you. And I love you."

"I love you too," Marron whispered along with the recording.

-----

In the Inner West Quadrant, at a main headquarters for the Confederation Police Force:

Wow. This was major. MAJOR! Graer rushed through the intelligence center to the office of his superior. This was almost as big as when they'd received word that the alleged Legendary Super Saiyajin had been reported dead by a nearly obliterated race in the North Quadrant!

"Serpioru-san!" Graer exclaimed as he threw open the door. "Sir!" he shouted again, waving a sheet of paper rapidly in the air.

Intelligence Director Serpioru just glanced up at his employee in annoyance and continued making notes on a recent report on the missing princess of Rattep. It was a situation they couldn't do anything about, since the princess had left of her own free will. Upon hearing this, the Queen had tried to lie and say she'd been kidnapped. He sighed. Let the Rattepian army deal with their own problems.

"Make it quick, Graer!" he grunted.

Graer, seeing that his boss did not understand the urgency of his news, slapped his paper on top of Serpioru's work. Before the Director could bite his head off, Graer nearly smashed his forefinger to the paper above the name that had him shocked for nearly five minutes.

Serpioru smacked Graer's finger away and picked up the printout. He read letter at least twice before looking up at his subordinate. "Graer, send my secretary in here. I have a lot of people to contact."

The cubicle-filler happily hurried out of the room. Serpioru fished a highlighter from his drawer and marked one sentence in the letter: "Lio Enterprises, in our great concern for the welfare of the known universe, wishes it to be known that a Saiyajin by the name of 'Vejita' was recently present at one of our outer oil distributors."


	18. Chapter Fourteen:Last Place You Wanna Be

Disclaimer: Take a guess.

Author's Note: You thought I'd abandoned this, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU! … (cough) It only took me, like, half a year to come up with another chapter. Oi. I have to work on that. I actually had most of this chapter done, but then I realized how many holes were in it and I wound up pretty much rewriting a majority of it. Sigh. I hope you enjoy, and I hope to get more of this story rolling over the summer.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: The Last Place You Want to Be**

"My beautiful princess!" Goten exclaimed. He bent down and hoisted Paresu out of her chair and into his arms. The two had been sitting in the control room watching the stars go by, but Goten had soon gotten bored. "I shall take you on my white space horse to our satellite palace!"

Bra's eye twitched as she watched the adorable display. She couldn't stand this anymore; she couldn't even continue her idle sketching. Ever since Rattep, the couple had been constantly together. She supposed it was because they had almost lost each other. As if had the covert measures to rescue the brunette failed, they couldn't have resorted to more forceful means.

Paresu giggled as Goten spun around. "Oh, my handsome prince!"

Bra rolled her eyes as she went on her way out the door. As she chewed the last chunk of the sandwich she'd brought from the kitchen after a training session with her father, she stared at the floor bitterly. She swallowed, and the masticated clump of bread and cheese and meat plowed into her stomach like a brick. She knew she was only jealous. She suddenly wished she had someone to talk to. Of course, Serive was the only one who knew about her love for Goten. She didn't want anyone else to know about it. It just seemed so childish compared to the danger they were facing. She supposed she could have tried to confide in Serive if she hadn't insulted her back when the ship was still damaged. But Serive had revealed herself to be rather bitter about love anyway during that conversation some nights ago.

Bra cursed herself when she felt her eyes prickle. She headed to her room where she could have a good cry in solitude. She closed the door and was ready to let the tears loose.

"Oh, am I graced with your presence?" Serive said coarsely.

Bra looked up. The princess sat on the floor, surrounded by stacks of coins: their reward for returning Tradvenuer… sort of. "What are you doing?" she asked, trying to steady her breathing and glancing in the mirror to see if her mood was obvious. She had expected the woman to be on the bridge.

"Counting our reward," Serive answered, then added, "which we didn't get by your helpful suggestion."

Bra glared. "Oh, so you can talk like that to other people, but you can't take it?"

"That girl was being stupid," Serive snapped as she completed a stack. "I can't believe you would even defend her. I thought you hated her."

"I don't hate her!" Bra retorted.

"Oh, yes, you look at her with such fondness when she's with that boy."

"That doesn't mean you have the right to suggest that we whore her out for money."

"You're being rather un-catty for someone who wouldn't mind taking her place."

"… I don't think I could replace her."

Serive looked at her with surprise, then went back to the money. "It's best that you leave them be anyway," Serive muttered.

Bra flopped on her bed. "They are in love," she assented sadly.

Serive laughed. "For now." She snorted and started another stack of coins. "It's ridiculous to put that much faith in another person."

Bra watched Serive count the money. "Did he really betray you?"

The Wycanian woman showed no reaction. "Who?"

Bra sighed. "You know who I mean."

Serive looked up from the money. "Why do you insist on hearing about him?"

The girl shrugged. "Just curious, I guess. I mean, since you're so hurt, you must have been in love. So I don't understand how he could turn against you."

"He's a fool." She returned her attention to the money. There was only a small pile left.

"Are you really going to kill him?"

Without missing a beat: "Yes."

Bra hugged her knees. "That's so sad," she said softly.

Serive sighed. "You're such a silly girl."

Bra huffed and looked away indignantly. "Well, excuse me if I still believe in love."

"Silly girl."

The next few minutes during which Serive finished counting their reward were in silence. Then the princess set about scooping the metallic currency back into its sack with a firm frown on her face.

Bra looked over at her roommate. "I want you to know that I am sorry about what I said the other day," she apologized. "But… but even though I'm trying to be your friend, I can't just let you treat everyone the way you do and then act like it's fine!" She braced herself for another argument, but Serive just kept refilling the sack. "Hey!" Bra snapped. "Are you listening to me?

"Whatever," Serive said sharply. "I have more important things to worry about than forming a bond with you." She hastily finished filling the bag and drew the drawstring closed. "Come on. We need to get to the bridge."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

While the purpose of the crew's trip was dire and they had run into trouble on the way, there were frequent intervals where MARC's residents didn't have much to do with themselves. After a mental training session with Bra (in which she had shown satisfactory progress), Vejita had filled up some time with a shower, and then reclined on his and Bulma's bed to consider the whole situation, as he often did. Worn from the practice session, and not having much else to do, the prince inevitably fell asleep. He woke up when straps flew out from the sides of the bed, snapped around his body, and held him in place. Instantly alert, he was ready to snap them off, but he quickly realized that they were landing somewhere. He growled to himself. Couldn't they have woken him up?

But there was little he could do about it now. He waited until the ship landed and settled, and then the straps rewound back into the frame of the bed. Vejita got up and made his way to the control center. With annoyance, he noticed that everyone else had made the landing on the bridge.

"Hey, sleepy head," Bulma said when she saw him.

Vejita stretched in the doorway and cracked his neck. "Where are we?"

"Ijuecia," Serive said, getting out of her seat.

Vejita froze with his arms over his head. He stared at her. "You're joking."

Serive frowned. "What's the matter?"

"Why wouldn't you tell me we were coming here!" Vejita growled, throwing his arms down to his sides.

She returned his severe expression. "Who says I have to tell you anything?"

Vejita covered his face with his hands and said something in another language that sounded quite colorful

"What is your problem!" Serive demanded.

"I killed Kui, you moron!" Vejita snapped.

"You… You killed Kui!" She was nearly aghast. "Why would you do that?"

"He pissed me off."

Serive snorted. "Oh, everybody pissed you off."

"Hence why a lot of individuals are dead," Vejita said snidely.

"I don't understand," Bulma stepped in. "Vejita, I thought you told me that Kui was just an annoying soldier. Who cares if you killed him decades ago?"

"Kui," Serive explained, while glowering at the Saiyajin prince, "was a close cousin of the prince of Ijuecia and a world role model. That prince is now King of Ijuecia. If they ever found out that it was Vejita who killed Kui and anyone sees him, the King will surely cause a lot of trouble for the murderer of the most ideal Ijuecian citizen to ever live!"

"He really wasn't that great," Vejita muttered. Then he shook his head. "Look, let's just get out of here!"

"The next planet that'll have the amount of supplies we need that we can get in this currency is too far off our course!" Serive retorted.

"You and your goddamn course!" Vejita snapped. "At this rate, we'll die and not even make it to your fucking planet!"

"Look," Trunks interrupted, "as usual, you two screaming isn't helping anything."

"We'll just have to disguise him and bring him with us to the market and my contact," Serive sighed.

"Contact?" Vejita repeated warily.

"This money isn't going to be enough to last us the rest of the trip," Serive admitted.

"Especially if we want something to survive on the way back," Bulma added.

Serive glared at the interruption, but went on, "I know an Ijuecian who's owed me a favor for quite some time now. After we buy what we need, I'm going to track him down while you all load the ship."

"Sounds like a plan," Gohan said. "But what are we going to disguise him with?"

A beeping noise interrupted their conversation. A screen popped up from the control panel. "Welcome to Ijuecia!" a voice said. "We hope you enjoy your stay, and that you'll assist us in apprehending a recently reemerged felon." A picture of Vejita with Ijuecian text blinked onto the screen. "If you have any information, please contact the Ijuecia Justice Commission." It was pretty obvious that the large text underneath the photo said something along the lines of "WANTED."

Vejita shoved past everyone to scowl at the image. "Fuck." After another moment, he said, "That damn picture." He hated that picture. He remembered the day it was taken; Freeza always liked to have thorough records of his employees.

Bra peered around him. "Wow, I didn't think you could look younger than you do now, 'Tousan," she commented. "What does it say?"

"It says he was spotted at a refueling station in the North Quadrant," Serive said, reading the text above and below Vejita's scowling photo. "Elufer. One of those bastards must have ratted us out." She read further. "This reward is nearly twenty times what we got from Rattep!" she noted, impressed.

Vejita sneered at her. "Don't get any ideas."

"Don't worry. I need you, remember?"

"Hey," Gohan spoke up. "I think we should get what we need and get the hell out of here."

"I think you oughta hide," Bra said to her father.

Serive nodded. "It's too risky to have you with us. Stay behind with Bulma and Paresu."

Vejita hated being ordered around. He wasn't sure if he hated it more that he agreed with her. The last thing they needed was more people who wanted his head figuring out that they were here. If he wanted to get his family back in one piece, things needed to start going more smoothly than they were turning out. "Fine," he grunted.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Using nearly all their reward money, Serive purchased all the available supplies in the Ijuecian market, which turned out to be not as large as she hoped. She fumed at the thought that they might have to stop on another planet if they ran out of supplies again. That led to the issue of her contact.

She ordered Gohan, Goten, and Bra to take the boxes back to MARC. She kept Trunks behind to help her ask around about her contact. After the two spent some time making inquiries to the booth holders at the market, Serive got the information she needed from an Ijuecian who was trying to sell her some cheap jewelry. She had Trunks accompany her to the south side of the city, where she led the way to a small building among a plethora of apartment buildings.

As they walked in, Trunks realized that it was a library. It was similar to those on Earth, except for that instead of books, the shelves were filled with thick metal tablets. A row of rusting metal tables and chairs took up the other half of the room. Dim lights hung from the low ceiling. One flickered occasionally.

At the head of the room was a circulation desk, and sitting behind it was a dark purple Ijuecian. Like all Ijuecians, he resembled something like a catfish with mandibular barbels on either side of his wide, oval, thick-lipped mouth. There was an indentation between his heavy brows that extended up and over the top of his head, splitting the thickness of the upper portion of his skull to the center of the back of his head. His ears lay under this overhang on either side of his head, and it was the glasses that hung over them that made him aesthetically different from his brethren. On either side of the fore part of his skull, were the usual large cylindrical protrusions. To the Ijuecian's left on the water-damaged wall was a freshly-printed poster of Trunks' father, just like the image they had received on the ship.

Serive approached the desk. "Where's Nuenes?" she demanded.

The worker shrank back from her tone, but pointed at a door in the far wall. "In his office," he answered.

Serive nodded. She turned round and marched straight to the door, opened it, and disappeared inside. A male voice yelled something in a panicked tone. Then there were muffled sounds of Serive shouting. Trunks and the librarian stared at each other uncomfortably.

"So…" said the purple humanoid.

Trunks nodded. "So…"

The Ijuecian looked him up and down. "Mind if I ask what species you are?"

"Hm?" Trunks shifted. "Oh, I… uh… I'm human." It probably wasn't a good idea to mention any Saiyajin heritage.

The librarian frowned, tapping at his desk. "Human… I actually don't know much of anything about humans."

Trunks shrugged. "Well, not many of us get around the universe."

"From Earth, right?" The purple creature frowned. "I would probably know more if the databases here weren't such a joke." He smiled to himself. "One day, I'll make it to Keldowneg. Then I can know everything and anything."

"What's on Keldowneg?"

The other looked at Trunks with surprise. "You humans _don't_ get out much, do you?" He shook his head and explained. "Keldowneg has only the most vast and accurate databases in the universe."

"And you want to study all of it?"

He nodded. "As much as I can. I can't get enough of culture and history. That's why I got a post here." He rolled his eyes. "But I should've known it didn't mean much. As you can see, education isn't exactly Ijuecia's number one priority." He gestured to the sparse number of shelves and the generally poor state of the room.

Trunks glanced around. "There certainly isn't much."

"These idiots are more concerned about action than intellect." He jerked a thumb to the crisp poster. "They eat junk like this up." He laughed. "That guy killed the king's cousin way back when the Kold Empire still existed. You know about the Kold family?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, okay. Well, Kui-- the cousin-- was an important guy, the ideal Ijuecian, so his killer shows up again out of the blue and everyone is up in arms." He snorted. "But what they seem to have forgotten is that most of the cretins who served under the Kold family forgot their roots. They pretty much just cared about themselves. They didn't give a shit about the rest of us." His gaze fell slightly, and the gleam of his lenses hid his eyes. "You know, this planet was scheduled to be purged not long after Freeza's death? Those traitors would have helped him destroy us. If Lord Kold or his other son had decided to take up the task, they would have followed their orders too." He looked up again. "Heh, of course, the public doesn't know much about all that."

"How do you know?"

He smiled. "Since this library is crap, I've ordered books from intergalactic suppliers." He shrugged. "I can't exactly afford as much as I'd like on this salary. But if I were to get to Keldowneg, I might be able to land a position as a researcher or something if I'm lucky. They don't really like to employ outsiders, but they don't have a very large population, so sometimes they'll make exceptions."

Trunks chuckled. "You seem to think about this place a lot. Why haven't you gone yet?"

"To Keldowneg? I can't really afford to leave." His enthusiasm faded. His brow furrowed, and he looked back down at the papers on his desk and started scribbling. "I get such shit pay that it's a real stretch to afford a commercial flight there. And what if I didn't get the job? Who knows what worse position with even lower salary I'll wind up with when I get back here? And my apartment. Oh, man. I was lucky in a lottery to get that mudhole."

"But you seemed so happy just thinking about Keldowneg," Trunks pointed out.

The Ijuecian stopped writing. He sighed. "Yeah." He fell quiet, thoughtful.

Trunks thought about when he would get horribly bored at work and just play hooky. He knew that he would be in it deep later, but it was always worth it compared to the dullness of the office. "If you're really that desperate to leave, sometimes you just have to forget all the consequences and just go for it, you know?"

The librarian was silent for a bit longer, brow creased in deep thought. Then he looked up at the young man over the top of his glasses. "What's your name?"

"Trunks. You?"

He raised his head. "Sharloc."

Trunks smiled. "Nice to meet you."

"Can I go with you?"

"What?" Trunks replied, taken aback.

"Well, if I can't afford to get there commercially. So hitchhiking is my best bet, right?" Sharloc put his hands together and brought them up to his chin. "For the love Glartob, don't leave me here. I hate this job. I hate this planet. I'm bored out of my mind! I'm going insane!" he finished, digging his fingers into his head.

Trunks nervously rubbed the back of his head. "I really don't think you want to come with us. We're kind of involuntarily on a life or death mission," he said, hoping to discourage the pleading alien.

But Sharloc's excitement only rose at his statement. "Really?" he said, eyes wide.

"You don't get out much, do you?" Trunks commented.

"Please let me come along! I won't be too much trouble. I don't even eat that much! I can make a fire with two sticks!"

Trunks shook his head. "I really don't think-"

"I have money!" Sharloc interrupted. "And I'm very knowledgeable! I can help you learn what to do and what not to do on each planet so you don't make some ridiculous etiquette error and get your head blown off!"

Trunks sighed. "Look, I don't even know if we're going anywhere near Keldowneg. And I'm not really the one you have to ask. You'll have to deal with my friend in there." He pointed to the door in the far wall. At that moment, there was a loud feminine growl and a terrified yip from the back room.

"I really don't care." Sharloc was nearly hopping up and down with excitement. "You're right! I have to just… just go! I mean, who says I have to come back at all if things don't work out, right?"

Trunks sweatdropped. "You haven't really given this much thought. Are you usually this impulsive?"

"Not at all," Sharloc replied, staring at him with wide eyes. "That's why I should act on this now before I chicken out."

The door far behind Trunks smashed open and Serive stomped out angrily. She slammed it shut again before either of the male beings could get a good look inside. "Freaking useless! Everyone! I swear!" she snapped, stalking up to the circulation desk.

"This is Sharloc," Trunks said, while the purple being looked up at the princess meekly. "He wants to come with us," he added.

Serive glared at him accusingly. "Oh?"

Trunks gestured to the hopeful Ijuecian. "He'll help us pay for supplies as long as we take him to a planet called Keldowneg."

Sharloc offered Serive a anxious grin. "My money's in an interplanetary bank, so it's accessible in many places," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Has Trunks here made it clear that we are not on vacation?"

Sharloc stared at her. "I don't care," he deadpanned.

Serive pondered for a moment-- his desperation had apparently made an impression on her-- then sighed. "Fine. Since your dingbat supervisor back there is a gambling idiot, it's a deal. But you'll have to figure out where to sleep. And I don't care if you die."

"So we are passing Keldowneg?" Trunks asked. Behind him, Sharloc was an example of what a catfish would look like if it was capable of showing utter elation.

Serive nodded. "It's on the way." She glared at Sharloc. "We're leaving soon. So get anything you need and get your ass to the space port." She nodded at Trunks again. "Go with him so you can lead the way. I'm going to check on the ship."

"Alright," Trunks said to her back as she left the library.

"Alright," Sharloc echoed to himself. "This is it. I'm leaving. I'm taking life by the--" A booming voice called from the back office, and Sharloc was startled from his thoughts. "My supervisor!" he exclaimed, pulling Trunks out of the building. "Hurry! This way!"

They slipped down an alleyway and came out on the other side into a rather squashed neighborhood. Trunks supposed this was a lower class residential area, and was rather depressed that the library was thought of by the Ijuecians to be on the same level as the impoverished.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Trunks asked as they walked.

"Completely," Sharloc affirmed.

Trunks shrugged. "Alright. So Keldowneg on the way to Wycan, eh?"

Sharloc stopped and stared at the half-human man. "Wycan?" he repeated. Trunks nodded. "That place has been ridden with civil war for going on six years now!"

"Well, we're going to fight with the rebels to stop it." Trunks sighed. "We're not exactly willing."

Sharloc resumed walking. "Good old Wycan pletels, eh?" he snorted. "One of the reasons the Confederation won't go into that war is because of that. Too easy for soldiers to be taken advantage of by the other side. Well, the other side of whatever side they'd fight on."

"And the other reasons?"

"Oh, political crap, you know. Not to mention that ever since the Kolds the Confederation has been very up on leaving planets their independence. A civil war is a dispute among a planet's own people, and the Council doesn't see it right to decide who is correct. If the triumphant side emerges as corrupt and horrible, then they might attempt interference."

"They don't think that Kouruji is corrupt?"

"Between communications, that man has claimed to be liberating Wycanians from a caste system and unaffectionate government. And no one can prove that such isn't true."

"But Kouruji is butchering the rebels-"

"And they butcher his men right back," Sharloc pointed out. "Look, Trunks, this civil war isn't the only one in the universe. The Council can't create total peace. All they can do is their best to prevent another Kold reign." He stopped in front of a large building. "This is my complex."

A small, dilapidated building where the windows to each room were far too close to one another. Trunks looked up at it and frowned.

Sharloc laughed. "I think looking in the face of death would be much more rewarding than staying here for the rest of my life."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Vejita realized how hungry he was, so he decided sinking his teeth into some food wasn't a bad way to pass the time. His stomach was killing him. He should have eaten after his training session with Bra. He always got hungry after a fight, whether mental or physical. When he reached the kitchen, however, Paresu was already there. She stood at the counter with bread and meat and cheese all set out in front of her. She turned around before he could leave.

She smiled cheerfully. "Would you like a sandwich?"

Vejita hovered in the door and hesitated.

"I'm already making one for myself. I could make you two if you like. Or three," she laughed.

"… Alright."

She smiled at him and turned back to the counter. "How many?"

"Three, I guess."

"Okie doke."

The prince didn't know much about the human woman. Only that she was cheerful like her boyfriend, a quality that wasn't magnetic to him by any means. This was the first time he'd been alone in the same room with her. It was awkward. Whenever he looked at her, all he could think of was what she said to Goten on Elufer.

Vejita frowned. She didn't seem afraid now, though.

Paresu finished up the sandwiches; she put one on one plate and the other three on another. She set one on the table across from her elder shipmate. "You surprise me," she said, setting the other plate in front of him.

"What?" Vejita deadpanned, avoiding her gaze and taking his first bite.

"After all I heard about you at the gas station planet," she said, sitting down. "I can't picture you like that at all. But Goten says it's true."

"I'm sorry if it bothers you," Vejita grunted.

"It doesn't," she insisted.

Vejita glared at her. He remembered the look that had been on her face. "You're lying."

She smiled sheepishly. "Well, it did at first, obviously," she admitted.

"So why shouldn't it now?"

"I think a person can change," Paresu said, taking a bite of her own food. "Of course, I don't know you very well, Vejita-san, but you've never given me a reason to think that you would do any of those awful things, at least not now. So it doesn't bother me."

Vejita didn't know what to say.

She smiled at him again, this time apologetically. "I'm sorry if what I said before made you feel bad."

The intercom buzzed to life and Bulma's voice said, "Hey, they're back with supplies. When you two are finished eating, come down to storage and see if you can help."

"Goten's back!" Paresu chirped. She picked up her sandwich and put the plate in the dishwasher. Taking another bite, she mumbled, "See you down there!" She left the room.

Vejita finished eating. He felt better.

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A short time later, Trunks arrived back at the space port with Sharloc. The Ijuecian had a duffel bag over his shoulder, and was looking around apprehensively.

"This is our ship," Trunks said, leading him over to MARC.

Bra suddenly walked past them, carrying a large box. "C'mon, Trunks!" she snapped. "Let's get this show on the road, eh?"

"Bra!" Trunks called out to stop her. "I want you to meet Sharloc."

"Oh!" Bra's face was intrigued when she spotted the Ijuecian accompanying her brother. "Hello!" she greeted with a smile. "I'm Bra, Trunks' sister!"

"Uh…" Sharloc stared at her blankly, eyes focused on her bright blue eyes, her shining aqua hair, her-

"Are you okay?" Her expression was one of concern.

Sharloc blushed madly, realizing he had been staring. "I'm sorry!" he blurted out. "Hello, I'm Sharloc," he introduced himself bashfully, looking down at the ground.

"He's coming with us," Trunks explained.

"Yeah, Serive already told us." She looked over at the Ijuecian. "Well, nice to meet you." Bra shook her head and laughed a bit, before taking the box into the ship.

Sharloc dazedly watched until the last of her boot disappeared within the ship. He felt eyes on him and finally noticed Trunks looking at him suspiciously. "SO!" the librarian chirped, hoping to clear himself. "When's take-off?"

"Now!" Serive growled. She had appeared at the top of the stairs. "We've finished loading. Come on!"

The two hurried onboard. Trunks led the way into the main room, where Bra had already informed the others that their new shipmate had arrived. Vejita was the only one absent from the room.

Bulma looked nervous. "Serive, is this such a good idea, considering that…"

Serive held up a hand to stop her. "We'll see in a second. Where is Vejita? Get him in here."

"V-Vejita?" Sharloc sputtered.

The prince appeared in the doorway then. He leaned against the frame. Sharloc stood dumbly in the middle of the control room. The Ijuecian and the Saiyajin stared for long moments. Vejita was his usual imposing self. Sharloc's face was shocked.

"I hope this won't be a problem," Serive said.

To most of the crew's surprise, the newcomer just laughed, albeit warily. "No problem at all," he said, shrinking under Vejita's gaze.

"He doesn't like Kui anyway," Trunks said, offering his support.

Vejita scrutinized the Ijuecian, apparently considering this, as if he had some say on whether or not Sharloc could accompany them. "Good," the prince grunted. He took his seat for take-off.

As everyone got themselves settled, Sharloc grinned happily. He'd been dreaming of leaving Ijuecia his whole life. At the moment, the presence of a wanted felon just wasn't a concern.

Bra set a hand on his shoulder. She pointed out the door. "Down the hall in the kitchen are some emergency landing seats. I'll get you strapped in and we'll be on our way." She smiled brightly at him. "Welcome to the MARC crew, buddy," she chirped.

Sharloc's face went a deeper shade of purple. "Ah… Yes." He laughed nervously and smiled at her. "Thank you."

* * *

In all seriousness, this chapter was a pain in the ass. Hopefully the next one will turn out more fun. Oi. Please review. 


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